The Assassination of Cobra Commander
by Roy Olsen
Summary: Chaps 15 & 16 now in! The war moves from the Kastel to the streets of Banja Luka, and now it's getting tough. The commander wants the city destroyed, but is that what Destro wants? And what's with Duke? Has he gone completely mad?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Surprises**

The sun dropped behind the Afghan mountains, steadily running away from the painfully lifeless landscape that blanketed the ground across northeastern Afghanistan. Looks, however, were almost always deceiving. What appeared to be worthless, barren wasteland was in fact home to an intricate network of terrorists, the kind of men who depended on death, ironically, to keep themselves alive.

Intense cold and dry wind snapped the scarf wrapped around Scorpio's mouth, whipping its bands against the back of his head and pulling his face into painfully tight grimaces that had the benefit of lessening the pain of the desert sands pelting his forehead.

The weight of his AK-47 dug into his shoulders; he had been carrying the fully-loaded assault-rifle for over ten hours through the windy mountains of south-central Asia. The day's heat forced the mercenary to drop his body-armor over six-hours ago, but that left his lightly-clothed shoulders open to the grinding fabric of the AK-47's strap.

His legs? They were reduced to aching rubber.

But he was in charge of an elite platoon of Sand-Vipers, specially trained for this kind of mountainous desert environment. If he showed any sign of weakness, one of those little peckers would report it to Cobra Commander, and Scorpio would lose his Elite-Officer status, an achievement that so very few are ever given; and he was sick of kissing the butt of that hissing moron who sat upon Cobra's throne.

Slow, scuffing footsteps came up behind him, and Scorpio turned to his left, freeing the left side of his face from the intense westerly wind. A Sand-Viper, who unsuccessfully attempted to hide the fatigue from his face, pointed to the darkening eastern horizon.

"Sir, there is a cluster of caves up ahead. GPS says that we are very close to our target. Should we investigate?"

Scorpio looked below the horizon and raised his binoculars. Sure enough, a group of three or four cave entrances lined a hillside about a quarter-mile up the trail. Putting away his binoculars, Scorpio then pulled out his GPS system. After double-checking his location, he waved his troops forward.

"This looks like it could be the place. GPS checks out. If Ahkmed is in there, he probably knows where we are, so get your fingers off your triggers. If we blow this deal, we die, even if we escape, know what I mean?" All the Sand-Vipers nodded; Cobra Commander was not renowned for being merciful.

Scorpio waved a pair of Vipers to take the lead, and he took position at the core of the group of Cobra soldiers. After a couple of minutes, the Sand-Viper point-men neared the closest cave and looked inside. One of the Vipers looked back to Scorpio and shook his head. The two point-men began walking on to the next cave.

Confused, Scorpio quickened his pace up to the first cave, but soon realized why the point-men weren't interested; it was only a shallow, fifteen-foot-deep cavern that obviously held no secrets. Feeling a bit of relief, Scorpio moved on.

Then the ropes fell down from above, warrior cries filled the air and before the Cobras could look up to see who was attacking them, they were tackled by mercenaries sliding down the ropes and jumping onto them. Scorpio was the last to be tackled, being grabbed from behind by an apparently Islamic man wearing an ammo belt across his chest and carrying an M-60 machine gun.

"How dare you assault me!" barked Scorpio. "Do you know who I am, who I work for?"

The Islamic man, obviously the mercenaries' leader, smiled and pulled Scorpio closer to him. "Of course I do, Scorpio. I've been expecting you." He shoved the Cobra away from himself and stood grinning with his hands on his hips. "But I didn't think you'd be so easy."

Scorpio wiped the sweat from his brow as he watched his Sand-Vipers get pushed away from their attackers. "I didn't expect a fight. I came here to make a deal."

"Then let's make a deal." The leader signaled to a pair of soldiers standing at the next cave's entrance, and they ran inside. "I am Ahkmed. Your ally Major Bludd hired me last year to perform a job for Cobra."

Scorpio nodded. "Yes, and you sent us a message that you completed your task. I am here to pick up the goods and pay you."

Ahkmed frowned. "Where is the weapon? You were supposed to pay me with the weapon!"

Scorpio smiled. "I am not such a fool as to bring it with me. It will be flown in after I signal Cobra Command that I have safely taken the goods from you."

Stomping his foot forward and growling, Ahkmed barked, "That is not what we agreed upon!"

"No, but it is what Cobra agrees upon. Did you honestly think that we'd let you keep the upper hand throughout this transaction?" Scorpio smiled, but was careful not to gloat. "I am not here to deceive you. You will get your precious weapon, but on the Commander's terms, understood?"

Ahkmed began laughing, laughing so hard that all of his men joined in the guffaw as well as a few Sand-Vipers.

"What is so funny?" snarled Scorpio.

Wiping the drool from his lips, the mercenary answered, "Do you not realize that I also have a weapon for sale? I could go to a dozen countries of the world and get billions of dollars for it!"

Scoprio waited until Ahkmed was looking him straight in the eyes, and then replied, "You would then have the entire western world hunting you down until the day you die. With Cobra, we respect you for who you are and what you have achieved, and will quite probably continue business with you in the years ahead. But if you sell that prize to an Arab country, you would surpass bin Laden as the world's most hated man."

The laughter stopped. Ahkmed stood in silence for a moment, looked up to the cave and waved his arm. His men pulled a large cargo crate out from its depths, then began to roll the wheeled box down to his position.

Once the crate reached him, Scorpio grabbed a crowbar from one of his Sand-Vipers and began wrenching the top of the box off.

"What is the problem, Cobra?" asked Ahkmed with an insulted tone, "Don't you trust me?"

"No." With that, Scorpio gave one last heaving jerk and popped the lid off of the crate. A Sand-Viper Officer walked up and the two of them began pulling out the thick insulation that wrapped the prize at its core. Soon enough, a cone-shaped metallic object exposed itself to the Cobras.

"My god, it's beautiful." said the Viper Officer.

"It's small. Did you check the measurements?"

Ahkmed frowned and looked into the crate. "I assure you, you greedy western dog, that this is exactly what you asked for. If you don't want it, I'm sure I can find a use for it myself."

"All right, all right, don't get your turban in a twist. Officer, repack the crate. Vipers, prepare to move out." Scorpio walked over to the Sand-Viper carrying a satellite-phone and grabbed it from him. After punching a couple of buttons, he clearly ordered, "Now."

Growling, Ahkmed asked, "What is going on? Where is my payment?"

"Oh, it's on its way, I promise you."

As the Cobra Sand-Vipers sealed, lifted and walked away with the crate, Scorpio kept one eye on Ahkmed, and the other on the hills ahead. They were quiet—perfectly still—except for a little flicker of light about a thousand yards to the northwest. _Perfect_.

"You cannot just walk away from me, you selfish infidel!" barked Ahkmed. But those were the last words he would ever say. Behind him, the mountainside erupted in flames and terrorists screamed in pain as they were unexplainably incinerated. Ahkmed's face stretched with shock and fear, but it was soon replaced with furious anger. He spun around and attempted to aim his M-60 at Scorpio, but the invisible heat-wave struck his body, scorching his clothes and shriveling up his skin. But that was not the end. After only a few moments, the bullets that he wore strapped across his chest began firing, blasting apart the Afghan terrorist in a violent explosion.

Fifteen minutes later, Scorpio's group reached a small pass about a thousand yards from the site of Ahkmed's demise. A man wearing a rough brown cloak walked down from the top of the hill to meet Scorpio.

"Excellent work," said Scorpio, "Your aim was impeccable. The weapon is ours."

A loud gunshot echoed through the pass, scaring away various birds and causing the Sand-Vipers to spin around in surprise.

Scorpio grabbed his stomach and grimaced. "Wh-why?"

The cloaked man pulled the smoking gun back under his robe and turned to keep a watchful eye on the Sand-Vipers. "Because although you are an effective Elite-Officer, Scorpio, your ego has grown too large for the Commander's comfort. And we all know that after what happened with Overlord last year, no man is allowed to believe he has accomplished more than what is truly of any use to the Cobra Organization."

"Bas…tard…" With that, Scorpio slumped down onto to the cold, dry mountain ground and died.

Using only hand-signals, the cloaked man commanded the Sand-Vipers to pick up the crate and march down the mountain trail. As they walked away, a platoon of Laser-Vipers crawled down from the cliff-top and took their stances next to their cloaked leader.

"It worked perfectly, sir." said one of the Vipers.

The cloaked man nodded. "Yes, Cobra Commander will be pleased."

"And Destro?"

Grinning, the cloaked man started walking down the hill.

1.

A dog may be man's best friend, but misery is the only company you're sure to have wherever you go. Jason Faria learned that a long time ago while working on the Detroit police force. But far before that, he learned something even more life-impacting: he hated rainfall; and that night, the skies over Atlantic City were showing him no mercy.

Huddled up on a pile of folded cardboard boxes, Jason—more commonly known by his G.I. Joe codename of "Shockwave"—sat soaked in misery. Rain pattered the top of his blue camouflage cap and flooded the road faster than the sewers could take it in. The lonely Joe watched dirt and litter float down the street, and hunched over.

_Where is he?_

As if fate answered his question with a laugh, the sounds of splashing rounded the street corner, and Shockwave's teammate ran into view, then slid against a dumpster. Shockwave stood up and grabbed his rain-soaked backpack. His teammate stepped away from the garbage bin and crouched down in pain. Shockwave jogged over to his fellow Joe and quickly caught his attention. The Joe Light Infantryman waved him lower to the ground.

"Hit & Run, where have you been? I've been soaking out here for over an hour!"

Slapping his hand over Shockwave's mouth, Hit & Run shushed him. "Quiet, man," he whispered, "Look, I'm sorry I took so long, but I can't talk about that right now. Just get on your knees and crawl with me out to that truck."

Shockwave shoved Hit & Run's hand away and looked down the street. A black Ford F-150 pickup was parked in front of an abandoned building. The Joe infantryman began scrambling for the truck; Shockwave sighed and began crawling behind his teammate. Water from the sidewalk soaked into his knees and filled up his boots with every step. Once they reached the truck, he peeked around the bumper and looked south. "Who are we hiding from?"

Hit & Run pointed to a gray van racing up the street. "Them."

Shockwave watched the van park next to the alley that he had just been sitting in. The side-panel-door of the van slid open and three soldiers wearing orange and blue body armor splashed down out of the vehicle. They were quickly followed by a fourth soldier wearing a black and yellow set of armor. Each soldier carried a large shield.

"Alley Vipers! Great, just great. And they've even got an officer with them." Shockwave unlocked the safety on his Uzi. "How long have you been avoiding these guys?"

"They caught sight of me around the Showboat Casino."

"The Showboat? That's clear across town from here. What were you doing on the Boardwalk?"

"Tracking them. They're up to something, and I want to find out what.."

Shockwave leaned back and stared at the fast infantryman. "Up to--? Of course they're up to something, they're snakes!"

"Yeah, but they've been avoiding their own allies There was a squad of Crimson Guardsmen chasing these guys, and they only just now shook 'em. It's been pure luck that I've been able to follow them this far without being seen again."

Shockwave shook his wet hat and watched the Alley-Vipers disappear into the valley that he was just sitting in. "Then let's take 'em. Call in for backup and—what the hell are you doing?"

Hit & Run smoothly moved across the pavement towards the alley. "I've been keeping an eye on these orange idiots since I first saw them over at the Trump Plaza, and if we're taking them out, then we don't have time for backup. We're doing it now."

Sighing, Shockwave cocked his Uzi. "Okay, then. Let's dance."

Splashing down the rain-soaked alley, Shockwave and Hit & Run ran up to the last doorway sitting to the left of the urban canyon's dead-end. Shockwave pulled out a silencer and spun it onto the end of his Uzi; Hit & Run drew his M-1911 and slapped in a clip of ammo.

"This door is big but not too thick," whispered the S.W.A.T. Trooper, "I suggest we go through together."

The Light Infantryman nodded, stepped back and readied a kick. Shockwave braced himself to ram through shoulder-first. On cue, the two men kicked and smashed their way through the entrance.

Rolling into the room, Shockwave crashed into a pile of buckets while Hit & Run ran behind a crate. An unarmed Alley-Viper standing in the doorway into the next room jumped up and spun around to see what the hell was going on. Hit & Run threw his knife at the Viper's right hand, causing him to yelp in pain and crash into the wall next to him.

Two more Alley-Vipers walked into the far room to see what the commotion was. Kicking the buckets away, Shockwave got up on his right knee and fired two silenced bursts from his Uzi, dropping the armored Alley-Vipers to the floor.

"They're down but packin' too much armor to be out." analyzed Shockwave, "Move in and secure the other two while I get this guy. I'll have your back."

Hit & Run nodded and raised his sub-machinegun into firing position. After a few painfully slow steps, he was in the other room; it was a larger room, but had less cargo in it. The fragile, dark structure was probably used as a warehouse back in the '30's, but Hit & Run didn't have time to think about that. Upon reaching the first Alley-Viper that Shockwave took down, he tied the Cobra's hands together with a length of rope found on the floor. The second Alley-Viper was another ten feet away.

But before he could reach the second Viper, three more Alley-Vipers burst into the far end of the room and opened fire. Hit & Run jumped behind the only cover he had by him: the unconscious Alley Vipers. Their bodies quivered as bullets hit them, and one of them started to bleed. Cursing, Hit & Run stood up from behind the Vipers and fired back. The Alley-Vipers pulled back, but the Joe's clip of ammo quickly emptied. Using the only asset left to him, Hit & Run charged the Vipers in a frantic zig-zag-like pattern that sent him scurrying like a rat across the warehouse's floor. Once he was close enough to the Vipers, he threw his knife. The blade simply bounced off their armor, but it distracted them long enough that they forgot about Hit & Run's most dangerous asset: his teammate. Muffled sub-machine-gun fire echoed from behind him, and blood splattered from one of the Vipers' arms.

_Thanks, Shockwave! _

Another Cobra tried to hit Hit & Run with a toss of his shield and a spray of gunfire. Diving into a roll to avoid the fire, the Light Infantryman sprung back to life with a leap into the air…which the Alley-Viper countered by simply grabbing the Joe out of the air.

_Whoever this guy is, he's tough._

As the Viper growled in anger and strangled Hit & Run, the soft sound of silenced gunfire began echoing through the room once again. Quickly accessing the situation, the Alley-Viper threw Hit & Run in Shockwave's direction. The Alley Viper ran over to his shield and picked it back up, then turned towards Shockwave. Bullets rattled off of the orange and blue metal slab as the Viper took a firing stance towards the SWAT Trooper; but before he could fire, Hit & Run scrambled up off of the floor and slammed an intensely hard kick into the left-side of the Alley-Viper's head, knocking the Cobra onto the floor. The third Alley-Viper ran out of the room and slammed the door.

Shockwave ran up to his teammate, who was jumping up and down on his left leg and cringing in pain.

"What were you thinking? He's wearing a helmet."

"I know, I know. That's why I kicked so hard."

"You're the fastest Joe on two feet, don't wreck your toes!"

"I know!"

Shockwave pointed to the back door. "There's still one more orange Alley-Viper, and we haven't even seen the yellow one yet. They've got be in there."

Trying to shake the pain from his foot, Hit & Run picked up his weapons and looked at Shockwave. "After you."

Frowning, the S.W.A.T.-Trooper slapped a fresh ammo clip into his Uzi and walked over to the door. Hit & Run hesitantly waited for his teammate to kick in the door, when a spread of rapid-fire punched through the wood and caused the Joes to drop to the floor and get sprinkled by tiny shards of oak.

"Damnit!" cursed Hit & Run. Once the shooting stopped, he returned the assault by unloading his sub-machinegun through the door. Shockwave jumped up off the floor and slammed through the weakened doorway.

Hearing bursts of machine gun fire and scuffling, Hit & Run loaded another ammo clip and ran into the other room just as the last orange Alley-Viper cried out in pain and dropped to the floor. Hit & Run watched Shockwave spin around, kick away the deceased Viper's gun and then point his Uzi at the black-and-yellow Alley-Viper Officer, who was cringing in the room's corner behind a crate.

"Get up and show us your hands!" ordered the S.W.A.T.-Trooper. The Alley-Viper slowly stood up, but he was adamantly grasping a folder that was thick with papers.

"Drop the folder, Cobra. Now." commanded Shockwave. Suddenly, the Viper spun around and pulled out a cigarette-lighter. He began to vigorously flick it and set fire to the folder.

"Damn!" cried Hit & Run, who jumped over the crate and landed a hard kick into the Alley-Viper's side, slamming him into the wall and causing him to drop the burning papers. Shockwave ran over, pulled off his hat and cowl and began slapping the papers with them. The flames quickly disappeared, and Hit & Run picked them up. Shockwave grabbed the Alley-Viper and handcuffed him.

"Nice try, dirt bag."

"Kill me." whispered the Viper.

"What?"

"Kill me, please."

Shockwave stood stunned for a second. "Why would I want to do that?"

Hit & Run looked up from the papers and cut into the conversation with a look of shock on his face. "Because we just hit paydirt."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Strategy**

The garage doors to the Chaplain's Assistant's Motor Pool above the PIT clanged shut, and Allison Hart-Burnett leaned back in the passenger seat of the VAMP Mark II and exhaled a massive sigh of relief. Looking over to the driver of the sleek tan jeep, Allison patted Clutch on the shoulder, looked to the ground and painfully began crawling out of the VAMP.

"Mind if I give you a hand?"

Allison, a.k.a. "Lady Jaye" looked up. She smiled and began shaking her head in disbelief. "Flint, you always know the worst time to show up. I look terrible."

"You could use a bath, too." Lady Jaye watched that cute little smirk pop up onto his face.

"Damnit, Flint, If I wasn't so sore I'd deck you right now." She let him take her hand and pull her out of the Jeep. She fell into his arms and sank into his chest.

"C'mon, hon, I've got a warm bath already drawn up for you." Flint nearly had to carry her to the elevator, but he didn't mind one bit.

"Flint?"

"Yeah, Allison?"

"I love you."

As the doors closed, the two lover-Joes kissed.

Clutch looked at the elevator, spit to the ground, grumbled a few curses and started wiping down the VAMP.

1.

Denver, Colorado.

A blue van—puffing out gray exhaust and desperately needing a paint-job—swerved around the street corner of Welton and 17th and gunned down towards Tremont. Once there, the driver slammed the brakes of the rickety old van and the doors swung and slid open. Moments later, half-a-dozen men, all wearing ski-masks and carrying sub-machine guns made their way through the doors of the First Bank of Denver.

A short burst of gunfire brought screams to the air and drywall chips to the floor. A security-guard drew his pistol, but before he could aim it at the robbers, he was shot by one and fell down. The shrieking grew more intense.

The lead bank-robber, dressed in a gray sweater and blue-jeans shot his gun again, then spoke up loudly.

"Quiet! All of you, just shut up! The second I hear another scream or especially a police siren, somebody in hear dies! Did you gather that, you jerk-wad bank tellers? If you hit your precious little buttons already, you just killed somebody!"

The face of a young woman on the far end of the teller stations went completely pale. She covered her mouth and started shaking her head. An older woman quickly ran over to her to comfort her.

The leader waved his men to the teller stations where they demanded every ounce of currency that the bank had. After a couple of minutes, the men started to run out the exit with bags of cash in their hands. Before he left, the leader spoke up again. "Thanks for everything. Pleasure doin' business wit'cha."

As he turned to leave, the door swung back in and smacked him in the face, nearly knocking him down—his team of robbers was running back into the bank. "What the hell are you doing?" he barked.

"Get back in the bank, Louis!" screamed the teammate climbing over him. "There's a freakin' tank comin' down the street!"

"A what?"

A that moment, a thunderous blast could be felt as well as heard. Team Leader Louis watched as his blue van exploded, sending debris flying towards the bank that shattered its windows.

Covered in smoking rubble and shards of glass, the bank robbers slowly picked themselves up off of the bank floor, coughing hard and desperately trying to regain their wits.

Then the troopers arrived.

Running through the broken window frames and shattered doorway, a platoon of Cobra Troopers charged into the bank. The Snakes-in-Blue grabbed the robbers and began giving the robbers the beatings of their lives.

After two minutes of merciless kickings and poundings, a Cobra Officer entered the bank. "Excellent work, boys, but that should do for now." Looking over the shocked civilians who didn't know whether or not they were still hostages, the Officer pulled down his facemask and smiled. "Don't worry, everyone, Cobra was here to save the day." He reached into his pocket, which caused a couple of people to gasp, but he only pulled out a stack of business cards. "If you ever need any help from people like this, just let us know. Here, take our card." He proceeded to pass out cards to the people at the bank. Police sirens grew louder, and the Cobra's backed out of the First Bank of Denver. The Cobra Officer waved goodbye and followed the Troopers out of the bank. A few moments later, a loud rumbling noise could be heard, and a Cobra H.I.S.S. II tank rolled by the bank.

The people in the bank stood in silence, looking in shock at the bloodied men on the floor, and the shiny business cards they were all holding in their hands.

2.

7:00am, eight-hundred miles east of Djibouti, in the Gulf of Aden.

Glaring sunlight filled the sky, laying a blanket of painful heat over the disturbingly calm ocean waves. Birds flew high in the sky and the fish were exceptionally active. To many, this would be seen as a beautiful day, but not to the crew of the Saudi Arabian oil tanker _Aymen's Star_. For them, this trip up to the Red Sea and through the Suez Canal was a gamble with their lives: they had just passed the tip of the Horn of Africa and entered the waters of the Somali pirates.

The tanker had tried to stay deep in the waters of the Gulf of Aden, and far away from land, but that tactic was a double-edged sword: they were further from danger, but they were also further from help.

Captain Rahid stepped onto the bridge of the oil tanker while he unscrewed the cap from his water bottle. After taking a healthy swig, he splashed a bit of water onto his forehead and wiped his brow.

"Captain?" Rahid turned to his right and saw his first officer calling to him.

"Yes, Mr. Muhadi?"

"We're still a day away from the Red Sea. No sign of any pirates as of yet. The American Fifth Fleet has our position and is ready to assist us, in case we are attacked. They are out of visual range, however."

Captain Rahid wiped his brow again and picked up his binoculars. "Then this would be the perfect time to attack us." He frowned and began scanning the horizon for any sign of activity. It didn't take long to find it.

"Captain, look this way please!"

Rahid looked over to his first officer who was looking south. "What do you see, Mr Muhadi?" asked the captain as he stepped up to the window and focused his binoculars. It didn't take long to see what was bothering the first officer. A small group of high-powered motorboats were racing across the waves and aiming straight for _Aymen's Star_.

Looking to the only western crewmember on his ship, Captain Rahid cried out, "Mr. Williamsburg, place an S.O.S. call to the American Fifth Fleet. We are under attack by Somali pirates!"

"Yes, sir!" Jonathan Williamsburg, a British naval engineer hired by the Saudis to run communications on _Aymen's Star_ was nervous about the journeys he made on the tanker, but couldn't pass up the money they offered him.

Sailors across the ship began to cry out in fear as more and more of them caught sight of the impending attack.

It was a surprisingly small pirate force for an oil tanker: three fifteen-foot-long narrow and white outboard-motored boats skipped across the Gulf of Aden and closed in. Only seconds after reaching firing range, the two boats on the left and right branched off to encircle the giant craft. A Somalian pirate sitting at the bow of the center boat stood up and aimed his RPG-launcher at the oil tanker's rear tower, and fired. Windows across the bridge shattered and the crew on board ducked for their lives. Another pirate standing at the center of the boat stood up and began screaming unintelligible things through a bullhorn.

Captain Rahid nervously stood up and looked out of the cracked-glass window. Two more pirates were shooting assault-rifles into the air to instill fear—and it was working. First-Officer Muhadi grabbed the Captain in panic as sounds of gunfire thundered from the starboard side of the ship. Sailors ran across the deck trying to get away from the attack, but were quickly brought down by pirate weapons fire. The death-toll was not high, but it made its mark.

"Muhadi, get off of me!" Pushing off the first mate in frustration, the Captain looked to the helmsman and barked, "Bring the ship to a stop!"

"But sir, shouldn't we--?"

"Do as you're told!" Rahid wiped his brow once again as he felt the ship's momentum slowly decrease—then he froze in panic when he heard pistol fire coming _from_ the _Star_.

Rushing across the bridge, Rahid caught sight of a member of his crew firing a pistol—Allah only knows where he got it from—back at the pirates. Unfortunately, they made short work of the stupid sailer. After only a brief burst of rapid fire, the sailor clutched his chest, and fell over the side of the ship.

As soon as the body hit the water, a boat pulled up to the port side of the ship and pirates threw up grappling hooks. With their fellow pirates covering them, a pair of pirates began climbing up the cables.

Suddenly, a burst of heavy ammunition fire strafed across the side of _Aymen's Star_ and hit the climbing pirates. They cried out in pain and dropped into the sea.

"Captain, look!" cried the helmsman as he pointed the southwest. Racing across the waves were a pair of red and gray hydrofoils, a kind that Captain Rahid had never seen before. They were smothered with weaponry, most notably cannons and torpedoes protruding from their sides.

"Who are they? Are they American?" asked the First-Officer.

"Not bloody likely." said Williamsburg, who watched the approaching crafts through a pair of binoculars. "They're Cobra. They must be in league with the pirates."

"Cobra?" pondered the Captain, "The western terrorists? Why would they attack us?"

Muhadi shook his head. "If Cobra and the Somali pirates are together, why did Cobra shoot them?" The group of sailors shared puzzled looks out of the cracked windows, and watched the remaining pirates abandon the oil tanker and race towards the Cobra hydrofoils.

Lowering their foils, the Cobra Morays reduced speed and broke formation. A pirate in the closest boat fired an RPG, but missed. His target opened its missile-rack and launched a pair of rockets at the smaller target—they didn't miss. Just using AK-47's, another Somali boat managed to scrape up the other Moray, but the heavy mounted machine guns on the hydrofoil ripped the little white boat to pieces. The third Somali boat attempted to escape westward, but the lead Moray fired off its starboard torpedo. In less than fifteen seconds, the debris from the pirate boat began sprinkling down from the sky.

"Captain, message coming in from the hydrofoils." said Williamsburg.

"Put it on speaker, please."

"_Aymen's Star_, you have been saved by Cobra Command, today. It was our honor to assist you. If ever you need any other kind of protection, just let us know. Have a peaceful trip north."

As the hydrofoils raced off to the horizon, Captain Rahid was nearly sick. Cobra had just saved his tanker from being stolen by Somali pirates, but they had done it by completely obliterating the criminals. Who had committed the greater crime? But more importantly:

_What was Cobra up to? _

3.

"So do you know what this big meeting is all about?"

Duke looked up from the papers he was carrying and saw Flint step out of the PIT's Level Four bathroom and walk up next to him.

"You did a terrible job shaving," replied Duke, "and you've got lipstick on your cheek."

Scrambling to find a handkerchief, Flint smiled. "Sorry, but I thought I was going to have today off."

Duke handed him a cloth. "How's Lady Jaye doing?"

Dreamy-eyed, Flint slowly wiped his face off. "Just got back last night."

Taking his handkerchief back, Duke smiled. "I'll give her an extra hour to file that report then."

"Thanks."

The two Joe leaders reached the doorway to General Hawk's office, which was curiously under guard by a fully-armed teammate.

"Footloose, what are you doing here?" asked Duke.

"Oh, hey, guys. It's like, really weird. Hawk got some visitor about an hour ago, an' I got called down to stand guard by his office. I think his visitor is really important or something."

Duke and Flint looked at each other in confusion. The Joe First Sergeant turned back to Footloose. "Are we allowed inside?"

Footloose laughed. "Oh yeah, you guys are. He's expectin' you. You can go right in." The Infantry Trooper shared one of his bizarre grins, and the two high-ranking Joes opened the door.

General Hawk's office was very wide and very long; it often doubled as a conference room. Hawk's desk sat at the far end, but in the corner, surrounded by pictures of Joes proudly standing next to their general. Surprisingly, a couple small photos of Cobra Commander and Destro sat on the wall—Hawk said he needed to remember why he was doing this every day.

Today, however, a new guest sat across Hawk's desk from him. Flint couldn't recognize him at first, but Duke knew who it was immediately—old rivals are seldom forgotten.

"Senator Bartell, this is an unexpected surprise." Duke was as courteous as required of him, but it took him a lot of effort to extend his hand.

"Conrad Hauser, good to see you again, you old dog!" The Senator quickly grabbed Duke's hand and gripped it tightly; Duke returned the grip with just as much zeal.

"Well this is interesting," said Flint, "Old friend of yours, Duke?" But the Joe First Sergeant and the Senator were glaring at each other too intently, so Hawk filled in.

"Duke and the Senator were rivals at Fort Benning."

"Rivals?" smiled Bartell. "I don't think so." He jerked his hand away from Duke's. "My team won."

Duke frowned and remained standing as the Senator sat back down. "To what do we owe the honor of your visit, senator?"

"Well, unless you've been living in a bubble in the last twenty-four hours, I'm sure you've heard of the recent outbreak of 'good Samaritanism' by Cobra all across the globe."

Flint lifted up his beret and scratched his head. "Really? I, uh, haven't heard. TV was off, ya know. What's been happening?"

Hawk directed his Joes to sit down as he updated them. "It started with drug busts in South America. Then there was the stop of a bank robbery in Denver and capture of escaped convicts in Mexico."

"And my personal favorite," cut in the senator, "Is the saving of a Saudi oil tanker from Somalian pirates. Why would Cobra bother with that?"

"Why would Cobra bother with any of those things?" asked Flint.

Hawk leaned back in his chair. "Well, they aren't exactly clean examples of law enforcement. In South America, half of the drugs couldn't be found afterwards. In Denver, Cobra killed nearly all of the robbers. In Somalia and Mexico, every criminal was killed."

"The problem the U.S. government has," explained Bartell, "is that roughly half of the world thinks Cobra is still a criminal organization and doing atrocious things, but the other half of the world's countries—"

"Think that Cobra has changed its ways." said Duke. He knew Cobra too well.

"Exactly. The U.N. is in turmoil about what to do with Cobra right now, since no vote can be made for or against Cobra."

Hawk leaned forward again and looked at the senator. "So what does the president want the Joe team to do about this?"

"Well, he knows that you can't attack Cobra without enraging half of the world."

"So why are you here?" asked Duke, with just a hint of malice.

Senator Bartell looked at each Joe team leader very carefully, then spoke quietly, as if he feared that his next sentence was being recorded.

"There is another factor in all of this that most of the world doesn't even know about."

Frowning, Duke leaned forward and decided to listen a little more closely to the senator. "What happened?"

Bartell grabbed a cup of coffee off of Hawk's desk and drank it just a little too fast; but he was too stressed to show any signs of pain. "About three days ago the Russian government reported that an active nuclear warhead had been stolen from them."

"What?" gasped General Hawk.

Who did it?" asked Flint.

Duke sat erect in his chair. "Don't tell me it was Cobra."

Nervously, the senator set the coffee cup back down on the desk. "Well, yes and no."

"Yes and no?"

"A small, but fanatical Arab terrorist organization stole the weapon. But we have confirmation that they were working for Cobra."

"It doesn't matter who stole it, Senator Bartell," explained Hawk, "If Cobra ends up with it, they're the masterminds and the true criminals in our books."

Senator Bartell began tapping his fingers on the desk. "Actually, it does matter that Arab terrorists stole it."

Flint raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well, it seems Cobra took the warhead, then incinerated the Arabs who stole it for them."

"Incinerated?" Duke's jaw dropped. "You don't mean…"

Bartell slowly nodded his head. "Yes. They used a Matrix cannon. The landscape around the area was completely fried, and some of the sand was turned into glass. Only a Matrix Cannon can do that. In fact, there are signs that multiple Matrix cannons were used."

On a normal day, seeing the color flush from Duke's face would be a dream come true for Bartell—but not today. Duke had seen the power of the Matrix cannon first-hand in Peru when it obliterated large Joe vehicles in seconds, and worse yet, set fire to thousands of acres of Brazillian rain-forest that took a week to subdue. Hawk was there when a Matrix Cannon melted an entire Navy frigate in less than a minute. If Cobra was using this weapon of mass destruction as a field weapon, well, then, life just got a lot harder for the G.I. Joe team.

The Joes were in silent shock, so senator Bartell continued his debriefing. "Since Cobra slaughtered the Arabs, the survivors have declared a _jihad_ on the Cobra Organization."

"That should be interesting," snorted Flint, "Considering that quite a lot of Cobra troops come from Middle Eastern terrorist organizations."

"Well, that's partially why I'm here today." stated the senator as he stood up and walked over to the map wall. "The president needs volunteers. He'd prefer that they came from here."

"What do you need of the Joe team?" asked Hawk, feeling a bit like a mercenary.

Bartell turned around and stared at the Joe General. "The last thing the president wants is some trans-continental mob-war on his hands. These terrorist organizations are going to be trying to destroy each other for years unless someone can think of a quick solution to the problem."

Duke crossed his arms. "And I suppose you have that quick solution?"

Bartell frowned and sat back down. "I do. I want you to kill Cobra Commander."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Loyalty**

The tapping noise reverberating from the tabletop was driving her crazy, but she couldn't stop her fingers. Tired. Frustrated. Lonely. Fearful. Every emotion that the Baroness abhorred drilled at her heart.

_Where was Destro?_

As far as she knew, he was forced to go see Cobra Commander over five hours ago, but he was fearful that the Commander was plotting something. He asked Baroness to wait for an all-clear signal from him, but that signal should have come almost three hours ago. Something was wrong. Damn wrong.

Sitting twenty miles off the coast of Cobra Island in Destro's freighter _Anastasia's Heart_ with only a skeleton crew of Iron Grenadiers and a handful of heavy vehicles, the Baroness knew that a rescue attempt—if necessary—was not an option.

"Madame Baroness?" The Queen of Cobra looked up to see an Iron Grenadier run into her office looking very anxious.

"What is it, officer?"

"We have received a message from one of our spies posing as a Cobra Viper. Well, he's not really a spy, more like a thug that we bribe for information, but he has proven to be quite reliable, so you could say that he—"

Slamming her fist, the Baroness barked at the jittering Grenadier, "Just tell me what you came to say before I strangle your insipid little neck!"

"Y-yes, m'am." The Iron Grenadier gulped and took a deep breath. "There is a rumor coming from Cobra Island that Destro has been imprisoned by Cobra Commander!"

As her eyes widened in shock, Baroness stood up and looked out the window towards the island. She whipped her eyes back towards the babbling Iron Grenadier. "Do you have a close relationship with this spy on Cobra Island?"

Growing even more nervous, the soldier began twittering his fingers. "Well, I wouldn't call it a relationship so much as a business agreement—"

Sighing, the Baroness raised her hand. "Do you think he can help me get onto Cobra Island without being seen?"

"Oh, absolutely. He works at the docks. Destro picked him because of where he works over a year ago. Did you want to surprise Cobra Commander?"

_Dear god this man is dense. How did he get to be an officer?_ "Not directly. Gather the five best troops we have on this ship, and have them report to me by the lifeboats." Anticipation began to trickle through the Baroness' body. _I'm coming for you, my love. Patience!_

"At once, Baroness. Will there be anything else?"

"Yes. Get me in contact with our little 'bribed information thug'. I need to speak to him immediately."

Bowing in submission, the brain-dead Iron Grenadier backed out of the room and crashed into an engineer walking down the hall. As the two men began to bark at each other, the Baroness rolled her eyes and shut the door.

1.

"Destro!"

_Faint_.

"Destro!"

_Rough. Unrecognizable_.

"Destro can you hear me?"

_Was it…Anastasia? No. Too…crude._

"If you can hear me, sir, please, wake up!"

The effort it took to awaken was almost too much to bear, but Destro endured the thundering pains racing through his body and opened his eyes. They revealed just about the only view that could make the stressed-out weapons manufacturer lunge forward in rage: the face of a Cobra Viper.

"D-Destro, p-please," strained the Viper, "I…I am und…under orders…of the…the B-Baron…ess." Releasing the Cobra Infantry Trooper's neck, Destro quickly eyed the two submachine-guns the soldier was carrying, then looked around the small room.

"Where am I?"

"You are in Cobra Comman—" He was cut-off by the sound of machine-gun fire and cries of pain. The Viper looked away from Destro and tried again, "You are in the dungeon on Cobra Island."

"And you came to rescue me?"

"Yes sir. The Baroness paid me to."

"Paid you?"

"Yes sir. I am your spy, Kelchak. I have been working for you for over a year now, feeding you information from this hell-hole."

Destro raised his eyebrow. "Really? Then I owe you a great deal. You have been one of my greatest assets." In order to keep an upper hand over competitors, Destro required a handful of spies throughout the Cobra Organization, keeping him well-informed of the Commander's actions and ambitions. Kelchak had earned his pay quite well.

The Viper spy took off his faceplate and revealed his scarred and ugly face. It was indeed the man Destro bribed fourteen months ago to send information from Cobra Island's north docks back to him whenever he needed it. His was a face that was difficult to forget—which was partly why Destro had hired him.

Standing up, Destro grabbed the extra sub-machine gun that Kelchak brought and moved towards the exit. "It sounds like you've started a bit of a dispute in getting me out."

"Yes. I needed the help of two friends to get down here, but a Crimson Guardsman out-maneuvered our assault and went for reinforcements. They've been taking well-aimed shots at us ever since."

Destro checked his nearly-empty ammo-clip and frowned. "So we're trapped?"

"Not at all, my lord." Kelchak walk over to a fallen Viper who was breathing heavily. His leg was ripped up by multiple gun-shot wounds and there was no doubt that he would die soon. "This is Maxwell. He is one of my friends. He also knows this dungeon area better than the man who built it."

"Pleased…pleased to meet you, sir." panted Maxwell.

"So how can he help us?"

Kelchek patted his friend on the stomach, which only made him groan. "He knows of an emergency exit that leads down to the docks."

"Then tell us where it is, and we will honor your memory."

Maxwell slowly shook his head. "It takes…it takes…" The Viper slumped down and Kelchak began shaking his friend in panic.

"What does it take?" demanded Destro. "A code? Hand print? Retinal Scan? We'll simply memorize the code or cut off the appropriate body part!"

"N-no." whispered Maxwell. "Voice…recognition."

Screaming in frustration, Destro kicked the wall. He took a few deep breaths, desperately trying to bring his stress-level down. After a few moments, he turned back and gave an empty smile. "Very well. Kelchak, pick him up. Let's go."

The spy heaved Maxwell onto his back. The wounded Viper cried out in pain and his legs began bleeding even more. As the two mangled soldiers moved down the long hallway, Destro cautiously walked behind them, still not completely feeling the level of trust necessary for a smooth escape from the dungeon.

"There they are! Shoot 'em!" Destro spun around to see a squad of Crimson Guard Immortals rush into the far end of the hall and open fire with the twin-barrel machinegun/rocket-launchers they carried. Unfortunately for them, in such a tight, dark hallway, firing a belt-fed machine gun was not easy, so their fire was very inaccurate. Destro dropped to the floor and switched his sub-machine gun to single-fire. A trio of bullets ricocheted off of Destro's helmet, but he didn't budge. Aiming as quickly as he could, he dropped two of the red and silver Guardsmen before the rest scrambled back around corners.

"Kelchak! Get down the hall, now!" barked Destro.

"Yes, sir!" Kelchak was forced to drag Maxwell down the hall and out of harm's way. Destro stood up, but didn't follow the Vipers. The Lord of Castle Destro ran as hard as he could for the fallen Crimson Guard Immortals. Flipping his gun back to fully-automatic, he opened up when he saw a Guardsman peak around the side of the wall—but then he ran out of ammo. Hurling his gun down the hall, he leapt onto the bodies of the killed Immortals just as the living ones realized that they could now shoot at him. They swung around the corners and prepared to open up. But before they could lock onto the weapons manufacturer, he rolled over the body of an Immortal and grabbed his twin rocket-launcher. Coming to a kneeling stance, Destro unleashed both rockets into the stone ceiling just above the Crimson Guardsmen. The blasts knocked the Immortals flat onto their faces, and covered them with rock debris pouring down from the ceiling.

When he was sure that everything was clear, Destro dropped the rocket launcher and picked up a machine gun/rocket launcher from a fallen Guardsman. He stood up and walked away from the pile of crushed Siegies behind him.

Ten minutes later, a fake rock slid to the right, revealing a hidden exit from the dungeon tunnel. Kelchak stepped out and took a deep breath of fresh air. "There is nothing better than the smell of the ocean, no?"

Destro smiled. Obviously, this man had never been to the Scottish Highlands. Still, this view across Cobra Island was a beautiful panorama of the northern docks. It would take about twenty minutes to walk down to them, but once there, Destro knew that he would have easy access to Cobra Commander's collection of sea craft.

The Lord of Castle Destro turned to Kelchak and reached out his hand. "I must thank you once again, my friend, for helping me. Obviously, my arrangement with you has had lucrative value."

Kelchak eagerly took Destro's hand and shook it. "It is I who am honored, my lord. I hope that we can continue to be allies—" Kelchak was cut off by a short burst of weapons fire. He looked down to see smoke gusting out of the twin barrels of Destro's stolen machinegun. He also watched blood begin to pour out of his torso.

"But I regret you are of no more use to me here." continued Destro, "Cobra now knows that you are a traitor, and like your friend Maxwell, it is best to just leave you behind." The CEO of M.A.R.S. let go of Kelchak's hand, and the Viper collapsed to the ground and rolled over in pain. Walking off down the hill, Destro didn't even look back. His business was with other, more _important_ people.

2.

The docks were nearly empty, as they always were. Cobra Commander preferred travel by plane, so except for routine naval patrols, there was little activity by the shipyard.

A couple of Eels were debarking from a Moray hydrofoil, and saluted Destro when they saw him. They obviously had received no word of his "criminal" status. Destro saw the advantage of the situation and took it.

"Eels, are you still on duty?" he asked, keeping a strong composure, despite his ragged appearance.

"No, Lord Destro." answered the higher-ranking Cobra Frogman. "We have just returned from diving duties off the southeastern shore."

Destro looked at the heavily-armed watercraft, careful to keep his hand firmly on the trigger of the large combo-gun he was carrying. "Does your hydrofoil still have fuel?"

The Eels looked confused, but the second Eel answered the question. "Yes, sir. We only used about half-a-tank."

A half tank wasn't enough to get Destro to any nearby island or continent, but it would at least give him a fair run and give time to contact the Baroness. It was a risk he was going to have to take. "I have a project I need to get to immediately. I want you to drive me there. Due north."

A bit frustrated, but obedient, the Frogmen nodded. "Yes, sir, Lord Destro. Right away."

As the hydrofoil pulled away from the docks, Destro took control of the boat's radio transmitter and dialed in his emergency frequency. "Destro to _Anastasia's Heart_, come in. This is Destro to _Anastasia's Heart_ on EF -1, respond."

Amidst buzz and shrieking sounds, a response finally came through. "This is _Anastasia's Heart_ on EF-1. Confirm ID, please, over."

Destro held the microphone closer to his facemask; strange clicking and beeping sounds began emanating from his mouth. The Eels looked at each other in amazement and Destro lowered the microphone from his face.

"Identity confirmed." stated the voice on the_ Heart_, "We have been searching for you, Lord Destro."

"Indeed." replied the Iron Grenadier Leader with a rather drab tone, "Where is the Baroness?"

A moment of silence. "She…she isn't with you?"

Destro's hand nearly crushed the microphone. "No, you fool! If she was with me, then I wouldn't have asked you where she was! Who is your superior? Get him on the radio!"

"Yes—yes, sir, Lord Destro."

"This is Lieutenant Archibald. How can I help you, my lord?"

"Where is the Baroness?" growled the CEO of M.A.R.S.

"She left the _Heart_ almost two hours ago with a team of commandos intent on rescuing you." Sounding confused, the lieutenant asked, "Do you need assistance, my lord?"

Satisfied that the Baroness could take care of herself, Destro relaxed. "Yes. I am going to activate the homing signal of a Cobra Moray that I am adrift in. But once I activate it, I may be assaulted by Cobra forces. Get to me, quickly!"

"At once, my lord."

"Also, contact the Baroness and order her to return to the _Heart_ immediately."

"At once, my lord."

The two Eels hunched closely together on the driver's side of the hydrofoil, and the lower-ranking Frogman whispered first. "I'm getting some bad vibes here, Rekowsky. I think Destro is up to something." Nodding, the other Eel slowly reached forward and pulled out a small pistol that was latched underneath the dashboard.

"Are you crazy?" gasped the subordinate Eel. Rekowsky briskly shook his head and glared at his teammate. He reached down to cock the weapon, but before his hand could touch it, the Eels heard some loud tapping. Confused, they looked up from the pistol, and saw Destro tapping his twin-barrel machinegun on the dash, then point it straight at them.

"Give me the .38. Now." ordered the metal-faced weapons-master.

Rekowsky frowned, turned the pistol around and handed it to Destro. "We are Cobras, Destro. We were only doing our jobs."

"Granted. But I am not a Cobra. And if you swear loyalty to me, I will let you live." Destro smiled. "And triple your pay."

The secondary Eel stood right up and saluted his new master. "I swear to serve you, Lord Destro! What is your first command?"

Rekowsky proved a bit tougher to crack. "I need to know what is going on, sir. Why are you running from Cobra Island?"

Destro sat back down in the passenger seat, keeping his gun aimed at the Eels. "It is an annoying story. But since we have a little time on our hands, I'll tell it."

3.

Seven hours ago:

Stank fumes thickened the hallway's air. Decrepit mold covered brick walls that appeared seven-hundred-years out of time. But it was all just a farce, meant to instill fear in those that were damned to spend time in this dark dungeon.

_Curse his extravagencies!_

Nearly having to feel his way around in the dark, Destro made his way towards the room located, annoyingly, at the far end of the dungeon. As he drew closer, an orange, flickering light filled the hallway. It was a small torch attached to the wall next to a smooth metal door. When he reached only a footstep away, the door slid to the right, revealing a small room not much brighter than the hallway.

"Destro!" called out a voice from within the room, "Please, please come in. We have a great deal to discuss."

Destro slowly stepped in, but just as he cleared the door, it slammed shut behind him, nearly clipping the heels of his boots. "What is this all about, Cobra Commander? Why have you insisted that I meet you in your 'Secret Board Room'?"

The man sitting at the head of the small table frowned, but no one could see the expression beneath his blue hood. His face was always hidden from view, so it was the Commander's duty to let his emotions be heard, and not seen. "You know that I do not use this room except for matters of utmost security. I think that you can use some simple common sense in calculating that I need you here for something very important."

The Lord of Castle Destro puffed out a breath of frustration behind his metal mask and took a seat at the opposite end of the table from the Commander.

Sitting to Destro's left was Dr. Mindbender, a surprisingly well-fit, yet quite disloyal scientist that Cobra Commander kept on his payroll despite his treachery from time-to-time. Across from Mindbender was Major Bludd, one of the few employees of the Cobra Organization that Destro mildly respected. Perhaps it would be possible to convince the Major to come work for the Iron Grenadiers…

A cloaked man stepped out of the shadows and took a stance behind Cobra Commander. Destro expected it to be the Cobra Leader's personal bodyguard, the white ninja Storm Shadow, but it wasn't. The man's eyes were hidden, but his grin was unforgettable.

_Zartan! What is he doing here?_

"Everyone knows why we are here," said the Commander, "since we all played a part in executing a massive secret operation."

Destro growled in confusion. "What are you talking about you fool? I have done nothing for you as of late, especially any kind of 'secret operation'."

All eyes in the room fixed on Destro, who nervously leaned back in his chair. "Ah, but you have done so much, dear Destro, that I couldn't just discredit your glorious assistance."

"Explain, for my patience wears thin. How have I supposedly assisted you?"

"Of course, of course." Cobra Commander's smile shone through his hood. "You have helped me acquire a nuclear weapon."

All color flushed from Destro's face. If he had taken his mask off, no one in the room would have seen a difference. Jumping up from his chair Destro backed up until he hit the closed door. "You little fool! If this is a lie, then I will kill you right now!"

Zartan pulled back the hood of his tan cloak, hoping to surprise Destro, but he quickly saw that he had already been identified. "It is no lie, Destro. I have just returned from acquiring the device myself."

"And I analyzed it." gloated Dr. Mindbender. "It's quite real. But nothing like the one you saw in that old James Bond movie, uh…what was it called?"

Destro shook his head. "I never helped you with any sort of nuclear bomb-stealing mission. How dare you threaten to bring me into this horrid little scheme of yours!"

Cobra Commander slammed the table. "You've had more to do with this mission than you realize! We've been plotting a scheme like this for years, even you know that."

"I never believe your silly ambitious babble. And I will never approve of mass annihilation."

Zartan laughed. "The creator of the Matrix Cannon disapproves of mass annihilation? That is hilarious."

Destro took a deep breath. "I understand the concept of human respect, and more importantly, honor." Destro sat back down as Cobra Commander hissed. "Tell me, how did you acquire this device? And do not lie!"

"Afghan terrorists, how else? We discovered the bomb's location in southern Russia, and they stole it for us."

"And they just gave it to you?" Destro let out a rare guffaw. "I'll never believe that! You had to have offered them incredible wealth. What did they want for it?"

The Commander took a deep breath and looked over to Zartan, who pulled the hood back over his head. "A Matrix Cannon."

Every cup and freestanding object on the table fell over as Destro slammed down his fists in all-encompassing rage. "What?" he screamed, "I destroyed the Matrix Cannons and all records of their existence!"

"But you didn't destroy this record of their existence." Dr. Mindbender tapped his bald head.

Practically puffing out steam, Destro glared at the former dentist. "You mean to tell me you re-built the Matrix Cannon, _from memory?_"

"I didn't just build it, I _improved_ it." Mindbender smiled.

In an artificially calm tone, Destro asked, "And how did you improve it?"

"It is now portable, although a bit less powerful."

Screaming rage couldn't do justice to all the frustration that Destro felt at that moment, so he just turned around and paced back and forth to the door. The Matrix Cannon was one of his most powerful inventions, but Cobra had proven that it was too irresponsible to handle so much power. The cannon could instantly incinerate Naval frigates, and now it could be carried around by hand? That was not acceptable to the greatest weapons manufacturer of all time.

Spinning around, Destro glared at Cobra Commander. "Give me your Matrix Cannons. Do what you want with your accursed nuclear weapon, I will have no part in it. But give me the Matrix Cannons. Once I have yours, I am going to find the terrorists and get their Matrix Cannon back. Don't you dare try to stop me."

The Commander chuckled, "Relax, Destro, we never gave them one."

"Then the Cannon is safe?"

"Absolutely. Although we still have some troubles to deal with."

Destro slumped back down in his chair, dreading anymore bad news. "What troubles?"

Cobra Commander leaned forward and interlocked his fingers. "I knew that you would never approve of purchasing a nuclear device, so I kept all information pertaining to our discovery of the device kept on Sammeston Island."

"Yes, Sammeston Island; that FUBAR disaster by the Dreadnoks…" snarled Destro as he glared at Zartan, "I also kept back-up files of my business transactions with Cobra there." Then, Destro's jaw dropped.

"I think now he understands." commented Major Bludd.

Cobra Commander didn't allow Destro to speak. "We bombed the hell out of that bump in the water, but the Joes were able to retrieve a great deal of our computer info before we blew up the command center."

Destro stood up and began pacing again. "And you…you changed my records, didn't you! You added files that state I had a hand in acquiring the nuke, didn't you?" Cobra Commander leaned back and shrugged his shoulders. Destro kept analyzing as he rubbed his metallic chin. "If the Joes have inaccurate information, they might think that the theft of a nuclear device was completely my idea!"

"Exactly!" cheered Cobra Commander. "But that's only the beginning."

Destro's face began to grow red with rage. "I could kill you for this, Commander!"

"Major Bludd worked selling weapons to terrorists in Iraq, remember?" said the Commander as he stood up. "But that was only the tip of the iceberg."

The Major leaned onto the table. "I worked all across the middle east and south-central Asia selling weapons. Weapons made by your company, Destro: Military Armaments Research System."

"Oh no."

"Oh yesssss!" hissed the Commander. "The sale of those weapons, at a greatly reduced price, gave Cobra the trust and credibility needed to be able to work with those 'less civilized' terrorists. After all, don't all terrorists have the same goal? In just under a year, they were working hand-in-hand with us acquiring the nuclear weapon from the Russian Federation."

"And naturally, the world will see the M.A.R.S. logo on all of their weapons." Destro clenched his fists and stared at Cobra Commander. "I _will_ kill you for this! You stole a nuclear weapon using a Matrix Cannon, and are framing me for it!" growled the Lord of Castle Destro. "How dare you! You've completely framed me for the greatest terrorist act in history! You arrogant--!"

Zartan pulled a rifle out from under his cloak and fired a shot into Destro's shoulder. The CEO of MARS quickly pulled a stun-dart from his arm, and glared at Zartan, then began to wobble on his feet and collapsed heavily onto the brick floor.

Cobra Commander stood up from his chair and looked at the floor. "Every great plan needs a scapegoat, Destro. Really, it's nothing personal. Well, maybe a little bit." Looking back at his fellow conspirators, the Commander smiled and hissed. "Well, that went better than expected. Now, let's get this plan into action."

4.

"So Cobra Commander finally got his hands on a nuclear weapon?" Gutters—the subordinate Eel who had finally revealed his name to Destro—whistled in amazement.

Destro frowned. "Don't get caught up in the romanticism of it all. If that hissing fool ever used the device both of us would be chased off the ends of the Earth until we paid for _his_ crime against humanity."

Rekowsky leaned forward. "And what do you plan to do about it?"

Destro raised an eyebrow. There seemed to be more to this Cobra Frogman than met the eye. "Explain yourself."

"No, explain _your_self. I'm just a meager deep-sea diver who joined this stupid organization for a cheap thrill. But you—you are an international powerhouse who has direct connections with a madman threatening the world with a nuke and is framing you for it. What are you going to do about it? Wait for the G.I. Joe team to come after you? Or are you going to do what you need to do to make sure he never uses that nuke, and never _ever_ gets a chance to use it?"

Destro felt the urge to strangle this cocky moron; but he was also feeling the pangs of guilt and responsibility—feelings he could usually ignore, but this time…this time they carried too much weight with them. Cobra Commander was an insane man, but he was controllable to a degree because he feared one thing most of all: final defeat. He always ran away if he was about to lose. Cobra's antics were really never more than epic annoyances in the grand scheme of things.

Destro had lost his temper in the Secret Board Room, that was for certain. He was mad even now, but rage no longer filled his blood. Still, if Cobra was going to start threatening the world with mass genocide, the Commander was taunting his own fate. Perhaps…perhaps it really was time to bring the Great Snake to justice.

"Kill him."

"What?" Destro was slapped out of his deliberation by Rekowsky's harsh words.

"It's easy, Destro. He's not going to stop until either you're recaptured or dead, so you've got to beat him to the punch."

Looking out across the Gulf of Mexico, Destro crossed his arms. "It is a tempting idea, but there is no way I could get close enough to even try."

"Then pay us to do it." said Gutters.

"Yeah." Rekowsky grinned, "We've got access to the Temple. I have a couple of Night-Viper drinking buddies."

Feeling a bid of sadness overcome him, Destro shook his head. "I can't possibly see this working. I won't allow it."

The radio squeaked and the lieutenant's voice came through in a panic. "Lord Destro! Come in Lord Destro! This is the _Anastasia's Heart_! Come in Please!"

Destro grabbed the microphone and pressed the transmitter button. "This is Lord Destro. What is the matter, Lieutenant?"

"It is the Baroness, my lord. We have received a message from Cobra Island. She has been captured, and is now a prisoner of Cobra Commander! They warn us not to attempt a rescue or she will be executed immediately! What should we do, my lord?"

Destro lowered the microphone and looked over at the two Eels.

"Kill him."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Scaffolding**

Low-Light squinted into the bright hallway as he pulled the door to his quarters open. Fighting back a yawn, he quickly recognized the man standing before him. "Hawk? What's wrong?"

General Hawk carried the expressions of a very tired and very worried man, but Lowlight could also recognize a man determined to do his duty—that was who Hawk was. "I need to talk to you, sergeant."

Low-Light pulled his door open completely, and clumsily held on to the towel he had wrapped around himself. "Come in, sir. Sorry that I'm not quite dressed."

Hawk waved his hand and walked in. "No apology necessary. I know that it is three in the morning, and you weren't expecting me; but I need to talk to you." He walked over to Low-Light's work desk, turned on a light and sat down.

"Umm, General Hawk?" Hawk looked over to see Low-Light's roommate, Tunnel Rat, sit up on the bunk bed. "Do you want me to leave?"

"Actually, I do. Thank you."

The general's somber tone caused Tunnel Rat to skip getting re-dressed. "Maybe there's some donuts left in the cafeteria." he joked as he zipped into the hallway dressed only in his underwear.

Hawk sat in silence as Low-Light took a drink from his water bottle. Setting the bottle down, the Joe Night Spotter looked at his leader with concern. "Sir?"

"I don't like to beat around the bush, Low-Light. You know that. So I'm going to be straight with you." Hawk looked up with a stern face, but his weakened eyes revealed his true emotional status. "I need you to kill someone."

Low-Light stepped back against his bed. "An assassination?"

"Yes."

Low-Light shook his head. "I'll sniper someone, Hawk. I've got no problem with that. But only in combat. I won't shoot someone in cold blood."

"It's Cobra Commander."

Low-Light turned to look at his leader with such a shock that he dropped his towel. As he crouched down to pick it back up, he collapsed onto his rump and leaned against the bunk-bed. "The Pentagon, right? You'd never think of something like this."

Nodding, Hawk looked over at Low-Light's book collection that sat on his small desk—all Stephen King. "They want Cobra finished, once and for all. The Commander has cost us billions of dollars in damages, yet he's gaining popularity all across the globe with this current scheme of his. The Pentagon wants him erased from play before he becomes so popular that he can never be brought to justice. The upper brass believe there's no way we could hold him in a prison now, considering that popularity."

"So they think the only answer is to kill him." grumbled Low-Light.

"At ease, soldier. I don't want this any more than you do. And I'm not ordering you to do it. But you are my best marksman. If you don't want to do it, I won't hold it against you in any way. But you would have to tell me who's second-best, because I have to find somebody on this team who will do the job."

Low-Light sat in silence, painfully weighing the moral implications versus the benefits to mankind. After over a minute of thought, he looked at the floor and sighed. "Okay, I'll do it."

Hawk stood up and extended his hand. "Thank you. I know it's a difficult choice to make."

Low-light glared back at his general. "But once he's dead, I'm out of here. I didn't join the military to be an assassin."

Hawk stared back at his soldier. "Don't you dare assume that I want you to do this! If I had the skills, I'd do the job myself!" Hawk caught his breath. "But it's a job we can't afford to mess up, so I need you to do it. If you want to hate me for the rest of your life, then fine. But save it until after you've completed your mission, because until then, you are still a G.I. Joe, and you better damn well act like one."

Low-Light jumped to his feet and stood at attention. "Yes, sir!"

Hawk felt his eyes water up, so he turned around and headed for the door. "At ease. And Low-Light, pick up your towel."

After the general left, Low-Light turned the desk-light off and climbed back into bed. Tunnel Rat walked in a minute later eating a stale donut. "Hey, Low-Light, what did Hawk want?"

"Nothing, Rat. Go to bed." As his roommate climbed onto his bunk, Low-Light felt a tear trickle down his cheek.

He didn't sleep the rest of the night.

1.

"The United Nations? Are you crazy, Commander? You'll be eaten alive!" Major Bludd grabbed his leader's shoulders in order to shake some sense into him, but Cobra Commander batted away the Major's hands and hissed.

"Nonsense! This is exactly what I've been waiting for, what we've been building up to with our recent activities across the globe." The Head Snake tapped a Tele-Viper on the shoulder, who then typed commands on a massive control board in front of an even more massive display screen—the master video screen in the Main Operations Room in Cobra Temple. News video footage from the past week began spreading across the screen, showing the after-effects of Cobra's "heroic" interventions.

"Look! See for yourself! Cobra is now seen as a positive force in the world. People will no longer fear us, but love us. We now have enough people in the world supporting us, and when we are accepted into the United Nations, my plan will be set!"

"Yes…" murmured Dr. Mindbender, "About this 'plan' of yours…"

Cobra Commander whipped out his pistol and pointed it at the doctor's face. "And when the world let's their guard down, that is when we will strike!"

Slowly pushing the pistol away, Dr. Mindbender frowned back at his leader. "But Commander, the countries of the world will never let you come and speak at the United Nations Headquarters in New York City. That is a ridiculous idea."

"Ridiculous, you say?" The Commander reached his hand back, and a Cobra Trooper passed him a piece of paper, which he quickly held directly in front of the doctor's face. "They already have!"

Grabbing the paper, Mindbender began reading it, and his monocle dropped from his eye. "This is a request from the United Nations to speak in New York!"

"Indeed it is!" gloated the Cobra Leader.

"But Commander, it must be a trap!" warned Major Bludd.

The Head Snake stood in silence for a moment and took a deep breath. "Yes, it very well could be." Using the Tele-Viper as a stepping stool, he climbed up onto the control panel and cried out, "But for the first time ever, Cobra controls a nuclear weapon, and I intend to milk it for every penny it's worth! I'm going to blackmail the entire damn world if I have to, but Cobra is going to come out the victor on this! So swears Cobra Commander!"

Every Viper in the Main Operations Room began cheering, but Major Bludd and Dr. Mindbender limited their clapping to a simple courtesy. Had the Commander finally gone insane? How could you blackmail a twenty-first century planet Earth with one nuclear bomb?

And if it worked, how could they profit the most from it?

2.

"The United Nations? Are you crazy senator?" It took all of Duke's strength to restrain himself from right-hooking his old rival.

"But it's shear brilliance! They'll eat him alive!" declared the senator.

Duke walked to the far side of the PIT's Operations Room shaking his head. Flint stood leaning against the back of Dial-Tone's chair, watching the room's massive video screen. It was divided into fourths, showing images of Stalker, Chuckles, Admiral Keel-Haul and Scarlett and Snake Eyes.

"But senator Bartell," commented Scarlett, "This has to be exactly what Cobra Commander wants; it's what he's been building up to with all his good Samaritan work around the world."

Bartell slapped his hands together, "But Cobra Commander is gaining too many allies in the world. We have to catch him while we still have enough support to keep him out of the U.N.!"

Flint scratched his head, "He must know what we're planning, otherwise he wouldn't have agreed to come to New York."

Bartell laughed. "That doesn't make any sense. And he's too stupid to know what we're planning."

"I agree with Scarlett," said Stalker, "The Commander's weakness is that he's overly ambitious, not flat-out stupid. And it does make sense: if and when we make our move, he'll be ready to counter it with a move of his own, and get twice the reward."

"And what if he does come and make a speech?" asked Keel-Haul, "What if he says things that too many people agree with? How will you arrest him after that?"

"How are you going to arrest him at all? You can't arrest someone that was invited to speak at the United Nations. That could start an international incident." explained Chuckles.

Duke and Flint looked at each other, but kept their cool. Everyone else thought that the Pentagon simply wanted to arrest the Commander. It had been decided by General Hawk and Senator Bartell to keep the assassination a very hush-hush matter. Hawk basically felt that the less who knew, the less there would be to implicate later. Bartell just didn't want the info to leak out too soon.

The senator slapped his hands over the back of his chair. "Do you really think he's going to give some historical 'wonder-speech' up there? You're kidding, right? He's most likely going to infuriate a lot of people who will cry for his head on a stick, and you should be there to bring it to them!"

Scarlett tipped her head. "The senator has a point."

Duke stood up straight with his fists on his hips. "Alright, this really isn't up for debate, anyways. Stalker, I want you controlling security around the U.N. Chuckles, I want you on the inside. How's your Swedish?"

"A tad _rostig_, sir."

"Better brush up, since you'll be working as a Swedish translator. Admiral Keel-Haul, you've got wide-ranged security duties around Manhattan Island. I don't want Cobra charging into, onto or possibly out of New York City, understood?"

"You've got nothing to worry about, sergeant."

Scarlett looked at Duke with concern. "Have anything for Snake Eyes and me, Duke?"

"Actually, yeah, I do. Stay with me."

The Joe U.N. security teams received their specific data and went their separate ways. Flint escorted Senator Bartell out of the Operations Room. Dial-Tone typed a few buttons and Scarlett and Snake Eyes' image grew from one-fourth the size to completely fill the massive computer monitor.

"So what's up, Duke?" Scarlett smiled.

The Joe First Sergeant looked closely at his two teammates and began tapping his thumbs on Dial-Tome's chair, an act the Communications Trooper found difficult to ignore.

"Cobra is up to something big."

Scarlett rolled her eyes. "You're pullin' my leg, Duke."

Duke began stroking his chin and walked away from the monitor. "I'm serious. The Commander is up to something bigger than his trip to the U.N. I haven't told anyone else about this because it's top secret." Pausing, he tapped Dial-Tone on the head. "Thanks Dial-Tone, but I'll take it from here."

The Communications Trooper nodded and stood up. Before he left the room, Duke called out, "And you didn't hear me say any of this, understand?"

Dial-Tone nodded again. "Yes, sir. I was listening to my iPod anyways."

"Very good." As Dial-Tome left, Duke turned back around. "Cobra has stolen a nuclear warhead from the Russians."

"Good god." gasped Scarlett. "Do we know where it is?"

"Sort of. A few days ago Shockwave and Hit & Run captured some super-secret shipping invoices from a group of Alley-Vipers in Atlantic City. They were for a large crate being delivered from Pakistan and heading of all places to Topeka, Kansas. If that doesn't reek of suspicions then I don't know what does."

Scarlett frowned. "Where are Shockwave and H&R now?"

"Wild Bill is taking them to Fort McConnell Air Force Base outside of Wichita, but I want you to beat them there. You're at that conference at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, right? I need you to high tail it over to Topeka and search for the crate ahead of them. This mission is too important not to be done perfectly."

Scarlett nodded. "Anything else, sir?"

"Just find the bomb. And fast. We don't know why Cobra is stealing nukes, but the info we captured from Sammeston Island confirms that Destro stole it for them. We also don't know how long Cobra will keep this 'Good Guy' farce up, especially after we, uh, arrest the Commander. Call me when you reach Topeka and I'll tell you where to start your search. Duke out."

"Scarlett and Snake Eyes out." Duke reached forward to deactivate the video screen, but he looked up one last time; Snake Eyes was intensely staring back at him with a glare that was obvious even through the commando's visor. Duke finally flicked the "Off" switch and sat down in Dial-Tone's chair.

The door to the Operations Room opened and Flint walked in. Duke turned the chair around and Flint immediately recognized the worry in the Joe First Sergeant's eyes.

"What's the matter, Duke?"

"Snake Eyes knows."

Confused, Flint was about to ask Duke what Snake Eyes knew, but then reality shut him up.

"I didn't even have to tell him. He just…felt it."

Flint placed his hands on the control board. "Should we tell Hawk?"

Duke stood up and headed for the door. "Yes. But let's leave Bartell in the dark. After all, we didn't reveal the plot to kill the Commander to Snake Eyes, it was just too obvious to a seasoned pro like him."

"Okay, your call. Let's hope Snake Eyes doesn't tell Scarlett."

"He's smarter than that. Besides, she probably deduced it herself."

The two Joes walked out into the hall, and made a morbidly quiet walk down to Hawk's office.

3.

"Bah. The United Nations. He'll eat them alive."

"Sir?" An Iron Grenadier communications officer nervously looked over to Destro, who was standing in front of a small display screen, reading various intelligence reports coming in from all over the world. A handful of them mentioned the Commander's invitation to New York City.

Destro stood up and looked at Voltar, his highest-ranking general, who had picked him up from the ocean over six hours ago aboard _Anastasia's Heart_. They were on the ship's bridge with Rekowksy, Gutters, Scrap-Iron and Metal-Head.

"This is exactly what the Commander has been striving for with his little 'turning over a new leaf' scheme." growled the C.E.O. of M.A.R.S.

"I wonder what his overall plan is," pondered Voltar, "The support he's racked up shouldn't give him dominance or defiance."

A servant brought the men some drinks, but Destro waved him away. "No, but I know this man. And he knows how to manipulate people. Why do you think I still work with him despite having gone to war with him multiple times? He sees weaknesses and exploits them. If you let your guard down, he'll hit you where it hurts the most."

Voltar took off his gloves and scratched his hands. "So you think his speech is what we should fear the most?"

"Yes and no. It is definitely what _he_ should fear the most, for it is where we will make our strike."

Rekowsky whistled in disbelief. "You're gonna try to kill the Commander while he's giving a speech at the United Nations building in New York City? That's ridiculous!"

Destro walked to the wall and picked up a high-powered sniper-rifle that had been left there under orders. "You are mistaken. _I _am going to Cobra Island to rescue the Baroness. _You_ are going to New York to shoot the Commander. It was your idea, after all."

Putting his hands up and stepping back, Rekowsky bumped into a very large guard. "Now wait-a-minute, Destro, I've got no qualms about shootin' old Snake-Face, but in one of the most heavily-secured buildings in the world? That's not ridiculous, that's suicide!"

Shoving the gun into Rekowsky's hands Destro glared at him. "If you make the shot, you will become the world's newest billionaire."

Blinking his eyes in disbelief, the former Cobra Eel studied Destro, then grabbed the gun and checked its weight in his hands. "Damn, for a billion smackers, I'd shoot you, too, Destro."

Coldly, Destro replied, "See that you don't. Now, go to the helipad. You've got a plane to catch in New Orleans that's heading for La Guardia, I believe."

"Yes, sir." With that, Rekowsky ran out the door and headed for the elevators. Gutters looked sobby-eyed at Destro, who sighed, and pointed out the door. Gutters smiled and ran after Rekowsky.

"Are you sure those two won't mess it up?" asked Voltar.

"They should be fine. I do not sense any loyalty to the Commander in them." Destro looked over to his two minions. "Scrap-Iron, Metal-Head, I have an important mission for you."

Metal-Head jumped to attention and saluted the Lord of Castle Destro. "Absolutely, sir! Anything you wish!" Scrap-Iron slowly nodded his head.

"Cobra Commander has stolen a nuclear weapon."

Metal-Head's jaw dropped, and this time Scrap-Iron was the one to speak. "What? Where did he get that?"

Destro growled. "That is not your concern. What is your concern is where the Commander is hiding it. I need you to find it, secure it and bring it to my safe house in Boston. My spy network on Cobra Island has informed me that it is being held in Kansas."

Voltar interrupted. "Kansas? Why would he put it there?"

"Because it's dead center of the United States, and the Commander can send it anywhere he wants to in roughly the same amount of time."

"Maybe he's got it on a horse farm, eh Odd-Job?" whispered Metal-Head as he poked Scrap-Iron with his elbow.

Destro stomped forward, grabbed Metal-Head by the neck and lifted him off of the floor. "'Goldfinger' took place in Kentucky, and I expect that will be the last reference to old spy movies I hear from you, understand?"

"Yes, yes, sir." choked out the Anti-Tank Specialist. Destro dropped him back to the floor and walked back to the computer screen.

"But Lord Destro," asked Voltar, "Where will you be during all of this?"

Destro picked up his missile-gauntlets and pulled them over his wrists, locking them into place. "Saving the woman I love."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Collapse**

Little red triangular flags flapped in the wind while the limousine drove down East 42nd Street. The blue vehicle's chauffeur tried to ignore them as he looked across the vehicle's hood, nervously following the police escort just a few yards ahead of the armored luxury car. The escort needed twice the policemen, but the United States Government was trying to make the limo's passenger sweat a little bit; after all, this was a country that vehemently didn't want him here. There had never been any doubt about that. The real question for the chauffeur wasn't whether he could disregard the hyperactive little flags, it was if the passersby on the sidewalk could disregard the entire car.

The question was quickly answered.

A bucket of garbage crashed onto the limo's windshield, but didn't break its bullet-proof glass. It did, however, leave a pile of residue that needed to be wiped off.

Then the screaming started.

"You terrorist scum! Get out of our country!"

"You ain't so tough! Get out of that car and face me like a man!"

More garbage, food and even furniture hit the limo, but it kept going. Police sirens turned on as warnings, but nobody was arrested. The tinted glass divider behind the driver's seat lowered, and the dark shadow of the limo's passenger could be seen to the chauffeur for the first time during this drive.

"Driver! Do not be distracted by these petty protests. Get me to my destination; that is all that matters."

Trying to ignore the sweat sliding down his forehead, the chauffeur nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll do my best, sir."

The divider began to slide back up. "See that you do."

Protests died down as the convoy reached First Avenue and turned left onto the United Nations Plaza. A crowd of people lined the far side of the street, and a few dozen uniformed security men stood in front of the General Assembly Building. The chauffeur noticed that security was much, much tighter here, especially on a day like this, a day when ambassadors from every member of the United Nations had gathered in New York City to witness the arrival of a very unique guest.

After the limo pulled up in front of the General Assembly Building, the police escort drove off and the chauffeur gently pressed the brakes and shifted to park. He immediately rushed out of the driver's seat and made a bee-line for the passenger's seat at the far rear, but he was stopped by FBI Security agents who had to pat him down for weapons. Knowing his passenger had no patience, he feared that he would not wait for him.

And he was right.

The rear door opened, and the passenger stood up, triggering a great deal of gasps from people watching from the street and along the steps of the Plaza. FBI agents and New York cops, itching to grab their pistols, had to use all of their inner strength to keep themselves in check.

A man in a light tan suit came over to the limousine and walked up to the passenger. "Mr. President! I'm glad to see that you made it here all right." He was clearly an adept liar.

"Yes, yes, I am fine. But I have not received the warmest of welcomes."

"I'm sorry about that, Mr. President. I hope that with this visit perhaps some of that negative energy can be erased."

The passenger whipped a glare over to the man. "Why do you keep calling me 'Mr. President?' Who are you?"

A bit red in the face, the man bumbled through his next words. "For…forgive me, sir. I did not…do not know your a-appropriate title."

"So you just assume that I'm just a President? Are all governments based like your foolish system? What is your name, you imbecile?"

"My-my name? It's…" the man gulped, "Ambassador Douglas Richards, sir."

"Thank you, Ambassador Richards. That will do. Now, can you please lead me into this accursed building so I may spread my ideas of world peace to the countries of our beautiful planet?"

"Of…of course, um…"

The hooded passenger turned towards the Ambassador and fired his next words with such sinister pride that Richards almost had to sit down, "_Commander_, of course. _Cobra_ Commander."

1.

Duke stood in the hallway of the United Nations Headquarters and squirmed. He didn't much like being in full-dress-uniform, and he especially didn't like wearing it on a day like today. Standing to his right, Flint was squirming just as much as he was. Neither Joe wanted to be there, but Senator Bartell made it a point to insist that those two men represent the G.I. Joe team along with their leader. General Hawk stood further down the hall in a cluster of brass and paparazzi that would normally be telling war stories and posing for the cable news channels.

But not today.

When the doormen swung open the main doors and Ambassador Richards stepped in, the paparazzi raced away from the generals and admirals like a group of sharks heading for fresh meat. The ensuing flicker of camera flashes forced Duke to turn his head away for a moment.

"Please, everyone, let the Pres…err…Commander through." Richards and a couple of Marine guards attempted to push back the reporters and photographers, but were consumed by the media blob. A pair of Crimson Guardsmen joined the group from an S.U.V. that had just pulled up and walked ahead of the Commander, violently shoving people away and smashing their electrical equipment. Soon enough, the crowd backed up.

Richards wiped off his glasses and looked at Cobra Commander in shock. "That kind of force was not necessary!"

"Wasn't it?" mocked the Commander. "I can get through, now, can't I?"

Adjusting his glasses, Richards pointed down the hall. "This way, please, sir."

Nodding, the leader of Cobra walked by all the generals, senators, ambassadors and paparazzi with his head held high. His only act of acknowledgement was to look over at Hawk for a second.

"What do you suppose that was about?" asked Flint.

"He's trying to tell Hawk that he's won."

_Has he?_ wondered Duke.

2.

"Members of the United Nations General Assembly, may I present, Cobra Commander, ruler of the nation of Cobra Island."

Despite Secretary General Kali Ti-Man's respectful introduction, the vast chamber of the General Assembly building was dead quiet. Every member of the United Nations—all one-hundred and ninety-two countries—had sent an ambassador to listen to the Commander's speech this day, but there wasn't a single one of them that dared to break the silence, not even the countries that no longer considered Cobra a threat.

As the Secretary General sat back down, Cobra Commander walked up to the pedestal with his blue cape flowing behind him on some mysterious gust of wind. His blue uniform was decorated with gold and silver—not a bit of it earned by him in any way. Spread across his chest, almost like an insult to freedom and peace across the globe, laid a massive, red Cobra symbol; its hissing head seeming to jump from the Commander's heart. Clutching the microphone with his thick leather gloves, the mysterious terrorist pulled it closer to his composite-titanium faceplate and addressed the Global Assembly:

3.

"Citizens of the world, I am Cobra Commander. For many years you have seen me as a force of imbalance to peace and justice in the human race. I have stolen your valuables, destroyed your constructions, and yes, murdered your children. What kind of man am I to perform such heinous acts? What gives me the authority to condemn the solidarity of life on Earth?

"I say that I earned this authority, achieved the right do declare myself king because of the endless hours I spent digging myself deeper into the ground with economic failure in this hell-on-earth capitalist country called the United States. I found men who felt as strongly as I do and in very little time I formed my own organization, whose sole purpose was to topple the domination imposed by the United States and all of its allies. But I am no communist. I rule my country the way I see fit to rule it, and if I need an asset from any kind of country then I know that I have the right to take it.

"Many of you are undoubtedly in shock at this moment, but I demand that you listen just a bit longer, for I will ask one more simple yet important question: all of you know me as a force to be feared, but have any of you ever considered using the Cobra Organization as an ally? Cobra could be a powerful friend. My organization is made of men and women, just as your countries are. We know the Earth: its beauties, its resources, its hazards. But my men are also a military. They know how to use weapons. They are highly trained in using state-of-the-art weapons. And I promise you, my organization is far more powerful than anyone truly knows.

"As I'm sure you also know, Cobra has begun a campaign to enforce justice across the world. We have been very successful, and fully intend to keep performing these campaigns of peace. I am not a man of hatred. I want to see a peaceful world as much as you do. Your countries obviously need help, and Cobra intends to give it. Free of charge! Let us show you how powerful a true ally can be.

"Thank you."

4.

Cobra Commander silently stood at the pedestal. Again, the chamber was dead quiet; but then a lone clapper broke the silence. He was slowly followed by more and more clappers until a passionate cheer started filling the room.

5.

Senator Bartell was sweating.

The applause reverberating through the door from the General Assembly was nerve-racking. Hawk stood over with General Alabaster and Admiral Daviston, trying to analyze what they had just heard. Duke and Flint stood nearby, but kept quiet.

Bartell couldn't take the stress anymore. He stomped over to Duke and screamed in his face, "Do you hear that? They love him! They're eating up that Robin Hood sob story-slash-infomercial and giving him all their support! We've got to end this, now!"

"Calm down, Senator!" snapped Duke, who pointed at the monitor in front of him. "Look. None of the fully-developed countries are applauding him. He hasn't changed anything with the larger powers of the world."

"Hauser, you moron, if he made a single friend today, then he obviously improved his position. And any improvement to Cobra's political status is a threat to our national security."

"That'll be enough, senator." warned Hawk as he walked over to the two men. "If you want your little operation to work, we have to play dumb."

"But he—"

"Just relax, senator. Nothing has changed."

Twittering at the lips, Bartell wasn't so sure, but he knew that he needed to at least pretend to be calm if he wanted his plan to succeed.

The main doors to the General Assembly swung open and the two Crimson Guardsman marched out, quickly followed by a gallivanting Cobra Commander. Hawk had to run to cut him off in the hallway.

"General Hawk." sneered the Head Snake. "Did you enjoy the speech?"

Hawk maintained a stone-cold expression on his face. "No. I don't know what your scheme is this time Commander, but rest assured, it won't work."

Laughing, Cobra Commander leaned closer to the Joe General and pointed back to the Assembly hall. "Are you deaf? Did you not hear the response to my glorious words of truth? Rest assured, Hawk, my 'scheme'," Cobra Commander looked over to the media standing in the hallway and raised a finger, "My plan for world peace and prosperity, that is—is working just fine." Glaring back to Hawk and pressing his finger against the general's chest, he pushed him away. "And I don't need faithless fools like you standing in my way! Goodbye!"

Hawk watched the Cobra leader bee-line for the exit and whispered, "Goodbye."

6.

Raindrops began to fall, seemingly pounded out of the dark thunderclouds that belched chaotic rumbles through the city; but that didn't stop the protesters. Hundreds of them had gathered along the sidewalks across from the United Nations Plaza, enduring the soak of nature for their chance to shout their hatred towards the world's greatest terrorist.

When the main doors opened and the caped man stepped out, they all tried to curse him at the same time. It was a sound greater than the thunder in the sky, and was quickly followed by the release of junk and small sharp objects thrown through the air, none of which could quite reach their target. Riot police fought valiantly to hold the masses back—but they could not stop the toss of hateful screams.

Cobra Commander mocked their protests by spreading his arms apart, almost like he was daring the people to take a shot. This infuriated the crowds even more. Through an amazing showing of will, or more likely arrogance, the Commander ignored the people and began walking down the steps towards his limousine.

Then the thunder clapped louder than ever.

Cobra Commander grabbed his chest and hunched over. His knees buckled and his body collapsed onto the stairway. The Head Snake crashed face-first onto the concrete and slid down the wet steps. Flags of the world's nations flapped behind him in a sort of silent cheer.

The Crimson Guardsmen spun around and ran back to their leader. A pool of blood began spreading out from beneath his body, and was quickly washed away by the rain.

One of the Siegies looked down to the riot police and yelled out, "Get an ambulance!"

Now silent from shock, the crowd burst out again, this time not with curses, but with cries of joy and cheering.

Paparazzi, now impossible to control, swarmed the scene, as well as a great deal of ambassadors from the United Nations. An ambulance arrived and quickly took the Commander and his two guards away.

Some of the media noticed that the only people not to examine Cobra Commander's body were the members of the G.I. Joe team.

7.

Duke, Flint and Hawk stood at a distance in the hallway of the United Nations Headquarters; their guilt keeping them locked inside.

"Looks like Low-Light did his job." whispered Flint.

"Yeah." said Hawk, with a frown on his face. "Looks like he did."

Senator Bartell walked up to the Joes, cautiously looking around to make sure no one was close enough to hear him talk. "Great work, men. You'll all be commended for this."

Hawk's frown tightened into a scowl. "We want no recognition for this. This was _your_ idea, Bartell. We only did this because we were under orders from _you_."

Looking back at the Joes with a blank face, Bartell whispered, "Fine then. I'll note your disapproval in my report." He leaned in and pointed at the men. "But I just gave you in twenty-five minutes what you morons couldn't achieve in twenty-five years: victory!"

Duke stepped closer to the senator and stared him in the face. "No, Bartell, you just elevated this battle to a new level of difficulty, a level that will have unimaginable repercussions. I hope you're happy with yourself. You just forced a group of seasoned soldiers to become just like you: pigs!"

Hawk pulled Duke back. "At ease, soldier." He looked at Bartell. "Duke's choice of words were a little juvenile, but I agree with him completely. Go away, Bartell, and never ask us to work for you again, because it won't happen."

The senator grinned and took a step back. "You forget your place in the world, General Abernathy. You work for the United States Government, and I _am_ the United States Government." He grinned and began to walk away. "We'll talk later. Thanks again!"

"Man, I see why you hate that guy so much, Duke." said Flint.

"He's as corrupt today as he was back in school." growled the Joe First Sergeant.

Stalker and Chuckles walked up the hallway to the three Joe leaders.

"You all knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" asked Stalker.

Duke lightly nodded. "We were under orders from a corrupt senator."

Chuckles looked down the hall. "Bartell?"

Duke nodded again.

"I knew that guy was gonna be trouble."

"Okay, men, that's enough for now." ordered Hawk. "We have work to attend to. Flint, I need you to go to Jacob's Bar on 3rd Street and pick up Low-Light. Duke, Stalker, you two go to the hospital and check out the Commander. I want to know who's under that hood. As for us, Chuckles, we'll stay here and calm down the media hounds. Clear?"

The Joes headed off for their assignments; General Hawk sighed, whispered a short prayer, and headed for the paparazzi mob.

"Jacob's Bar" wasn't the cleanest place on the lower west side of Manhattan, but at least there were signs by the bathroom that said "Employees Must Wash Hands". It wasn't the friendliest place, either, but it seemed the Headhunters hadn't found it yet. If you sat in one of the dark corners of the place you'd soon be forgotten by the swarm of drunk blue-collar workers who lined up at the bar.

And that's exactly why Flint had wanted to come here. It had been over an hour since Cobra Commander took the fall at the U.N., and it was now the Joe Warrant Officer's job to pick up Low-Light and bring him back to the PIT on Staten Island. There was to be absolutely no electronic communication, so a pick-up was essential at Jacob's Bar.

"So you want another ginger ale, honey?" asked the waitress. Flint slid over his glass and looked at his watch. _7:00p.m. Where was Low-Light? Had the police caught him?_ This pick-up was feeling less and less "legal".

As if on cue, a bearded man wearing dark black slid onto the seat opposite Flint.

"Low-Light!" the Warrant Officer faintly cried out, "Where have you been? You're a tad late."

The Joe Night Spotter looked back over his shoulder, than leaned forward. "I was seen leaving the Plaza Hotel. After all, there were a lot of badges on the streets. It took me thirty minutes to shake off the cops tailing me."

"But you're sure you got away?"

Checking his shoulder again, Low-Light nodded. "Pretty sure. I can't believe how totally messed-up this operation is."

Flint froze. "What do you mean, messed-up? The Commander was hit; you did your duty."

Low-light leaned over the table. "But that's just it, Flint, my cover was blown and I had to vacate the hotel before the Commander had even finished his speech."

"What?"

Low-light looked away in shame. "There were a couple of out-of-uniform Siegies working the hotel. They saw me walk in and followed me. When they tried to grab me, I ran."

Flint leaned back in shock. "Is that when the cops came after you?"

Low-Light nodded. "Some riot police saw us run and chased us. They grabbed the Crimson Guardsmen, but I obviously got away."

Flint stroked his chin. "What were two Siegies doing in the Plaza Hotel?"

Low-Light shrugged. "Guard duty? Whatever their reason, I can assure you of one thing, I'm not the one who killed Cobra Commander!"

_But if Low-Light didn't do it,_ thought Flint, _Who did?_

8.

The view of Central Park from a thirtieth-story penthouse apartment is one of the finest sights that you'll ever see in New York City—and Destro had access to two of them. One apartment was kept in perfect condition since it was used for social gatherings and private parties, but this one—the one on the northwestern side of the park along Central Park West—this was Destro's New York _home_. It was cluttered with documents, blueprints and even had a few pillows and bed sheets spread across the furniture. Destro would come here to think, not to entertain.

However, today it served one of its alternate purposes: it was a safehouse. Rekowsky and Gutters had been given the rare permission to escape to this penthouse after they had completed the task of shooting Cobra Commander. Two high-ranking Iron Grenadier officers awaited them inside.

After jiggling the lock, Gutters pushed the solid oak door open and scampered into the room. He slammed the door shut and fell to his knees.

Captain Michaels, sitting on a sofa that faced the main door, set down the tea he was drinking, stood up, and looked at the former Eel in confusion. "Gutters! Why have you returned alone? Where is Rekowsky?"

Gutters looked over to the officer and shrank with fear. "It…it wasn't my fault, sir! I was just following orders!"

Picking up the former Eel by the shoulders, Michaels dusted him off and looked him straight in the eyes. "Gutters, you are making no sense. What happened? Your mission was obviously a success! Destro will be proud to pay you the billion dollar reward. But first, tell me where Rekowsky is."

"He's…he's in the slammer."

"What?" The Iron Grenadier picked Gutters up and slammed him against the heavy oak door. "How could he have been arrested? Destro paid hundreds of thousands of dollars in bribes to get you two buffoons a clear path past the police check points. When did this happen?"

Gutters fell down to his knees again. "R-right be-before we reached the final checkpoint. A clean cop recognized Rekowsky from his criminal record and grabbed him. Rekowsky told me to go on, but by the time I reached the Plaza Hotel, the Commander was already dead! I tried to do it, sir! I, I was just too late!"

Destro's officers were hushed as they tried to analyze this new data. _If the Eels didn't kill the Commander, then who did?_

"We must tell Lord Destro immediately!" said the other officer.

Gutters sobbed as he looked down onto the hardwood floor, but his tears were suddenly vaporized by thoughts of panic. He stood back up quickly and pulled out his pistol. "I, I can't have you tell Destro! If you don't tell him that I failed, then he'll think that I did it, that I killed Cobra Commander! I…I can still get paid!"

"Gutters!" barked out Michaels, "Have you gone mad?"

Quickly shaking his head, Gutters replied, "No, I got smart!" With that, he fired a multitude of shots at the Iron Grenadiers, sending them crashing onto Destro's fine art and furniture.

With his right eye now twittering and his mouth locked in a sideways smile, Gutters dropped the pistol and ran out of Destro's penthouse apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Restructuring**

"Excellent!" cheered Dr. Mindbender. "The Commander is dead. Cobra is now finally free to grow the way that it should!"

Sitting across from him at the table in the Main Conference Room, Zartan looked back at the doctor with a disgusted scowl. "After hearing those words, doctor, I'm partial to believe that you arranged his assassination.

Dr. Mindbender smiled and leaned back in his chair. "You know me better than that, Zartan. I'm not an assassin."

"No, but you damn well know how to hire someone who can pull a trigger!"

Slamming the table, Mindbender barked, "How dare you challenge my loyalty, you sniveling gold chaser!"

Zartan pulled out a pistol and threatened the doctor. "Say it again, six-pack. I dare you."

"Enough!" barked Major Bludd. "Cobra is already in chaos because of what's happened. We don't need to make things worse!"

As Zartan holstered his gun, he snarled, "Who put you in charge, Major?"

"We did."

Zartan looked up at the room's large communications screen and saw Tomax and Xamot broadcasting from their Extensive Enterprises office in New York.

"You have no authority!" barked the Dreadnok commander.

"We beg to differ." said Tomax.

Xamot continued. "Considering the fact that we hold more shares of Cobra business stocks than anyone else in the world…" said Xamot.

"…and since we are in fact commanders of the Crimson Guard." continued Tomax.

"We hold more authoritative power than the rest of you combined." they finished together.

"But what about Destro?" asked Major Bludd. "That bloke has always been number two around here."

"Destro?" laughed Dr. Mindbender. "I'll put twenty-to-one that he's the one who killed the Commander."

"Excellent bit of guesswork, my dear doctor, I commend you!" The Cobra agents in the room turned in shock to see Lord Destro standing in the entranceway to the Main Conference Room. He was surrounded by a squad of Iron Grenadiers, who were all pointing weapons at the pack of sinister terrorists.

"So you finally got the balls to do it?" asked Zartan.

"I assure you, Zartan, my level of male pride has always been enough to take Cobra Commander's life." boasted Destro as his troops surrounded the table.

Major Bludd was red with rage. "How did you get onto Cobra Island undetected? And into the Temple no less?"

Destro laughed. "I sold the Commander all of his defense equipment. I—better than anyone else on the planet—know how to shut it off."

"B-But the guards…"

Destro walked up to Cobra Commander's former chair and sat down. "They will all enjoy the 'bonuses' that I gave them. Now, let's get down to business preparing the new Cobra order."

"But Destro…" said Tomax.

"…you killed the Commander." said Xamot.

Dr. Mindbender stood up and pointed his finger at Destro. "That's right! Why should we swear loyalty to you when there's no reason to trust you?"

"And what if I did? Does that make me any less of a self-serving entrepreneur than any of you?" Destro stood up and began walking around the table, looking each high-ranking Cobra agent in the eyes as he did. "You all rejected me because of my disapproval of capturing a nuclear weapon. You all planned to let me rot in the dungeon until this little 'Save the World' plan was completed so that you could use the nuclear weapon to blackmail the United Nations and blame me for it, correct?. And finally, as if that wasn't enough, you captured my dear Baroness so that I would be forced to surrender to your every whim! I shouldn't have just killed the Commander, I should have killed each and every one of you as well! In fact, I believe I still can." The Iron Grenadiers all cocked their assault rifles.

"Enough!" cried a voice from a door hidden at the room's far corner.

Destro turned to see the person entering the room—and fell to his knees in shock. "Baroness?"

The Baroness marched in wearing her tight black leather attire, and adjusted her glasses. "I have heard enough of this testosterone-driven poppycock. Destro, I am ashamed of you. How could you kill Cobra Commander, then threaten the other leaders of Cobra?"

Confused, Destro stood back up. "But, Baroness, I thought they had—"

"They haven't done anything to me. I chose to stay of my own accord."

Destro's confusion transformed into anger. "What?"

"It is true." said Dr. Mindbender. "She likes the nuclear weapon plan and supports it. She has brought excellent new ideas to our little 'scheme'."

Destro looked back at the Baroness and frowned. "But they were going to mark me as a malignant psychopath. I am not Cobra Commander!"

Stroking her lover's metallic chin, she gave him a tilted smile. "I know, my dear, but I also know an opportunity when I see one." She stepped back a spread her arms. "Cobra is now broken, thanks to you. But apparently it is now under your control as well. We are all loyal to Cobra, so we will do as you say—as long as it is for the good of the Cobra Terrorist Organization. Remember, all of us in this room and on the computer screen have faith in the nuclear weapon plan. If you say no to it, disorder may follow."

_Damn her intelligence._ Destro knew that her greatest asset could also be her greatest annoyance. Still, she had the group quiet and standing behind her. He also knew that she wasn't just _helping_ him, she was _controlling_ him at the same time. She hadn't acted this way in years, and it was almost…refreshing. He would accept it for the time being, but only until he found a way to flip the scales.

"Very well. But there are going to be a few modifications to this nuclear program."

Grinning, the Baroness replied, "And I'm sure we will be happy to discuss them." She walked over to Cobra Commander's former chair and stood behind it, smiling. "Please, take your seat."

_Damn her intelligence._

1.

"Something's not right." griped Flint as he stood in front of his bathroom's mirror.

"Why, did something fall off?" joked Lady Jaye from Flint's desk.

Flint walked back into his living quarters rubbing his chest. "No, I'm not talking about my perfect body. I mean ol' Fang Face's execution. Something doesn't make sense."

Lady Jaye stood up and hugged her man. "Are you upset that Low-Light didn't get the shot?"

Flint pushed her away and leaned against the wall. "No. Well, a little. But it's something else. Something about the news videos that just didn't look…right. Help me out."

Lady Jaye sighed and sat down on the room's ruffled bed. "Okay, okay. I know I won't get a second of sleep until you stop worrying about this." She looked down at the floor. "Do you think Low-Light really did shoot him and he's lying about it?"

Flint shook his head. "No. His rifle was examined and it hasn't been fired or cleaned in the last twenty-four hours. There's no way he could have taken the shot."

"Do you think Destro shot him? Those two are always at each other's throats."

Flint walked over and sat next to Lady Jaye. "It's possible. But I don't think that's what's bothering me."

Lady Jaye leaned onto Flint's shoulder. "I don't know, honey. Maybe you're afraid he might not really be dead. Look, I'm just about dead myself. Can we think about this tomorrow, when it's a little easier on the—"

Flint stood up, causing Lady Jaye to fall back onto the mattress. "That's it! Allison, you're a genius!"

As Flint pulled a pair of pants on, Lady Jaye sat back up and looked at him in frustrated confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I can't talk right now. I gotta go tell Duke. I'll fill you in later. Love ya!" With that, Flint ran out of his quarters.

2.

Insomnia had forced Duke to toss and turn for hours. His conscience had been eating at him ever since he watched Cobra Commander step into the United Nations Headquarters.

_It should never have happened. _

Duke had been trained for almost thirty years to tackle that tin-faced snake on sight, yet when the most opportune time ever came, he was under orders to hold his position and be diplomatic.

_Diplomatic? To that scumball?_

The G.I. Joe First Sergeant thought back to how many times he had to fight Cobra Commander's ridiculous little army, all because the greedy terrorist couldn't control his rogue ambitions. And he was too good of a politician; he had the support of a handful of Caribbean and Central and South American countries, just enough to make invasion of Cobra Island unfeasible.

So why couldn't Duke enjoy the final defeat of the Commander?

_Because he isn't defeated._

"What?" Duke asked himself, boggled at the thought that just went through his head. He threw off his blanket, sat up and concentrated, trying to understand why he just had that thought.

_Cobra Commander couldn't be taken down that easily. It's just not feasible._

_But why not?_

Memories of the shooting raced through his mind, and Duke imagined the murder over and over and over. From the gloating stance by the doorway, to his few steps forward, to when he grabbed his chest…

"Oh my god, he isn't dead!" Duke stood up and quickly pulled his clothes on. He walked towards his door, but before he could grab the handle, someone began knocking.

Surprised, Duke opened the door, but almost jumped for joy when he saw Flint standing in the hall.

"Duke! Great, you're up! I've got to talk to you!"

The First Sergeant smiled. "Let me guess, you figured it out."

Flint looked confused, but then excited. "You know, too?"

"Absolutely. How could we have been so blind?"

Flint waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. But right now we've got to tell Hawk."

"Right."

"I already know, guys." Duke and Flint turned to look down the hall. Hawk stood in his pajamas, looking a bit embarrassed. "We were fools. The Commander can't possibly be dead."

3.

Crawling up from behind the vast, level horizon, the sun spread a thick orange color across the eastern Kansas sky. G.I. Joe VAMP number 47 hummed across the Kansas Turnpike, heading northeast from Wichita on Interstate-35. Its weapons had been removed so that it could drive through civilian territory inconspicuously. Of course, a twenty-seven-year-old, sleek and army-green jeep did have a tendency to grab a bit of attention.

Sunlight beamed through the small windows of the VAMP and hit Shockwave straight in the eyes, causing the sleeping Joe to squirm in his seat. Hit & Run looked over from the driver's side and smiled. The two Joes hadn't gotten much sleep over the night; Wild Bill flew them to McConnell Air Force Base outside of Wichita in the Joe C-130 and dropped them off with the VAMP. The big old propeller-driven cargo plane was way too loud to allow any snooze-time. To make matters worse, they were under orders to rush up to Topeka overnight and meet Scarlett and Snake Eyes, who were going to take command of their assignments.

"What…what's going on?" asked Shockwave as he rubbed his eyes.

"Nothing yet. We're still heading up to Topeka and almost to the I-70 junction in Salina."

Shockwave frowned. "Well now it's too damn bright out. I can't sleep in this." He looked out to the sun and squinted.

"Then let me sleep." said Hit & Run. "I can barely keep my eyes open as it is."

Shockwave slumped down in his seat and yawned. "Fine. We'll switch…in…Sal…in…a." With that, the Joe S.W.A.T. Trooper was back asleep again, apparently gaining the ability to snooze from not wanting to give it to his teammate.

Sighing, Hit & Run slapped his own face. "C'mon, H&R. Don't fail me now."

Suddenly, a thunderous boom shook the VAMP, causing Hit & Run to panic and swerve off of the road. Shockwave woke back up as the Joe Light Infantryman opened the Jeep's door and ran outside.

"Hit & Run! What did you just do?" Shockwave stumbled out of the VAMP and trotted over to his fellow Joe who was staring up into the sky. Looking around, Shockwave could see that dozens of other cars were off-road or crashed-together as well, with their drivers looking to the northeast. "H&R, what happened?"

Looking back to Shockwave, Hit & Run replied, "We need to call headquarters."

"Why, dammit?"

"Because a Cobra Condor just flew over the Kansas Turnpike, and it's heading for Topeka!"

4.

"Here it is, Snake Eyes, our target." Scarlett turned the wheel of their stripped-down Desert Fox six-wheel-drive jeep and exited Interstate-70. Scarlett frowned as they passed a sign next to the entrance of their destination. "Orcba Field. I wonder how many misspelled usages of the word 'Cobra' are spread across the country, and why we never seem to notice them."

Snake Eyes was studying the airfield too intensely to respond.

"The field looks normal enough. Cessna planes, hangers, an unpaved runway. Just a small airstrip outside of Topeka. Nothing too strange about that."

Snake Eyes looked back to Scarlett and slowly shook his head. Scarlett cringed. "I know, I know, I'm just hoping."

Snake Eyes pointed to the largest hanger of them all, sitting smack dab in the center of the row of large gray metal buildings.

Scarlett nodded. "Okay, we'll start there." She pulled the Desert Fox up to the hangar and shifted to "Park". After the two Joes stepped out, Snake Eyes pointed to a small door on the western wall. Cautiously moving forward without their weapons drawn, the two Joes walked up to it. Scarlett picked the lock, but Snake Eyes stepped inside first.

The scene was simple enough: it was a dark, empty hangar, with high windows letting only a slim bit of sunlight in. Repair equipment and gas cans were set towards the rear, and tie-down ropes were wiggled across the floor.

"Doesn't look like Cobra has been in here, Snake. At least for a while. Maybe we should—"

Snake Eyes raised his hand and took a few steps forward. He stopped at the edge of a large rug lying on the floor at the back of the hangar.

Scarlett walked up to him and whispered, "Rugs aren't too strange in hangars, ya know."

Snake Eyes quickly bent down, grabbed the edge of the rug and yanked it into the air, revealing a hidden hatchway cut into the concrete floor.

Snake Eyes looked back at Scarlett, who drew her crossbow and nodded. He then grabbed the hatchway's handle and lifted it up.

The doorway revealed a flight of dark stairs, which Snake Eyes was again first to go down, armed only with his knife—there wasn't enough room for his sword. After cautiously maneuvering down the stairs, Snake Eyes walked into another large room—one almost as large as the hangar—dimly lit by weak fluorescent lamps. More importantly, it was filled with equipment used by Cobra to repair their small aircraft, like the F.A.N.G.s and Trubble Bubble Flight Pods.

"I don't think we've found the nuclear weapon," said Scarlett, "But by finding this hangar we've hurt Cobra a little, and every little bit helps."

Snake Eyes walked towards the back of the room to do some more investigation, when a cluster of movement caught Scarlett's eyes.

"Snake, look out behind you!" she cried as a trio of Night-Creepers sprinted for her lover/teammate with their weapons drawn. Her warning was just in time; Snake Eyes dropped to the ground and laid on his back, dodging the lead Night-Creeper's swinging blade. The Joe then stuck his feet into the purple ninja's stomach and catapulted him over his body, sending the Cobra smashing into a pile of F.A.N.G. engine parts. The maneuver gave Snake Eyes the momentum necessary to roll back over his shoulders and land on his knees, where he took a defensive position and drew his katana. A second Night-Creeper quickly attacked him, this one wearing large steel claws on his left forearm and a titanium-alloy gauntlet wrapped around his right. Snake Eyes stabbed his katana forward, but the Night-Creeper ran directly at it and swatted it away with his claw. The Joe Commando pulled back and took a quick slice at his opponent's mid-section, but the Creeper blocked it with his gauntlet. Laughing, the Night-Creeper plunged forward with his claw, forcing Snake Eyes into a roll to his left: but as soon as he moved, the ninja punched forward with his right hand smashing Snake Eyes in the face and sending him stumbling to the ground.

Giddy with laughter, the Night-Creeper looked down on Snake Eyes' squirming body and raised his clawed arm. "Now I will reap the rewards for destroying the almighty Snake Eyes!"

Coming back to his senses, the Joe Commando looked up as the mercenary ninja stabbed down with his claw. Jerking his body left, Snake Eyes avoided the main strike, and received a scrape across the shoulder. Jumping back to his feet, the groggy commando looked over to his opponent who was quickly approaching him.

"What are you going to do, Snake Eyes? You dropped your sword. How can you fight me?"

Reaching behind himself, Snake Eyes detached the Uzi sub-machinegun from his backpack and whipped it around in front of him. After a quick pull of the trigger, the clawed Night-Creeper was left lying on the ground with a shocked look on his face. Snake Eyes then looked for the the third Night-Creeper, only to see him lying on the ground with a pair of arrows embedded in his chest.

As she re-holstered her crossbow, Scarlett walked back over to her teammate with a disturbed look on her face. "You know, some people might find your maneuver a bit unethical." Snake Eyes shrugged his shoulders, then winced in pain and grabbed his injured one. Scarlett lifted his hand and looked at the wound. "But I guess if you've just gotten your butt handed to you by a lowly Night-Creeper…" Snake Eyes glared at her through his cracked visor and she smiled. "Just joking, relax."

Scarlett looked around the room. "We still need to figure out why an old hangar has a hidden chamber crawling with Night-Creepers." Snake Eyes nodded over to the ninja that he had thrown during the fight; he was unconscious. Scarlett smiled again. "He should help."

Snake Eyes tapped his watch.

"Oh yeah! We need to meet up with Shockwave and Hit & Run. Let's tie our little friend up and get going." She took a few steps towards the center of the room and looked around. "But don't worry, Cobra, we'll be back."

5.

Destro walked into his room feeling as if a giant noose was strangled around his neck. The last three hours had been grueling; never before had he fought so hard for what he wanted the Cobra Organization to do, not even with Cobra Commander vetoing his every demand.

_It is almost a shame that the Commander is dead. _thought Destro, _I could use one of his silly debates right about now. _He drifted over to his liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of his finest champagne: Channel Tempo Cognac, 1963—this was a bottle that he had planned to share with the Baroness, but not anymore. Her arrogant betrayal of him had not broken his feelings of devotion to her, but they were dampened for the time being.

Just as he popped the cork off the bottle, there was a knock at the room's door. Cursing silently, Destro set the bottle down and walked over the entrance. _I have no wish to speak to you, Anastasia._ he thought as he pulled the door open.

But the Baroness was not standing in the hall.

"Zartan? What do you want?" Destro's mind began racing with confusion. The leader of the Dreadnoks had never been a friend to the CEO of M.A.R.S., everyone knew that. They were bitter rivals for Cobra Commander's affections, and were forced into alliance only because of their loyalties to the Head Snake. Now that he was gone, Destro had already been thinking of severing Cobra's link to the swamp-scum Dreadnoks; there just hadn't been time yet.

"Steady your hands, Destro, I'm not here to make threats at you." promised Zartan with his trademark grin spread across his face. "But I am here to ask questions. And if you know what is good for you, you'll answer them."

The Lord of Castle Destro studied the Dreadnok Leader cautiously. Zartan could not be trusted—even Cobra Commander had his hesitancies. But he was fairly influential, and if he had harmful knowledge and/or needed his concerns settled, then it would be in Destro's best interests to listen to him.

"Very well. You may enter. But I demand that you show me respect. Do that, and I shall show you the same courtesy."

"Oh, absolutely, Destro, every respect." Zartan walked in with the annoying grin seemingly glued to his face. It took all of Destro's strength not to slam the door behind him.

The Dreadnok Leader flopped down onto Destro's sofa and swung his feet up on it. "Do you have anything to drink?"

Grinding his teeth, Destro walked over to his liquor cabinet and picked up his cognac. The thought of sharing it with such a scumball infuriated him, but he was not going to open another bottle of anything just for a Dreadnok. "You're in luck, Zartan. I just opened a Channel Tempo '63. Would you like a glass?"

Zartan turned around in surprise. "Really? I'd be honored!" After Destro poured the drinks, he handed a glassful to Zartan who smelled it and sighed. "Ah, the good stuff. Cheers!" He raised the glass and took a sip.

Surprised that the Dreadnok leader didn't just chug it down, Destro sipped his own, then growled. "Alright, enough of this little tea party! Why are you here, Zartan? What do want? You're obviously here to harm me in some way!"

"Tsk, tsk, Destro. So distrusting. I just want to know a truth."

Destro raised an eyebrow. "A truth?"

Zartan set down his glass and leaned forward. "Yes. I'll be blunt: why are you telling everyone that you killed Cobra Commander?"

Destro sat down in the recliner next to the sofa. "Because, you fool, I hired a pair of mercenaries to go to New York and shoot him."

Zartan shook his head slowly. "But they didn't do the job, Destro—they failed!"

"What?"

"Let me explain with a little backstory: there are more Dreadnoks in this world than you realize, because, frankly, a lot of them are in prison." Destro rolled his eyes, but Zartan continued, "One of them was in New York the day of the assassination and got himself arrested for a DUI. Let's say his name is Bob. While Bob sat in the city jail, he met up with someone who was arrested for an outstanding warrant. His name? Damian _Rekowsky_."

Destro's mild level of interest suddenly jumped to an intense interest. "Choose your next words carefully, Zartan, for if you are lying to me…"

Zartan raised his right hand. "Oh, I assure you every word is the truth, dear Destro. My Dreadnok 'Bob' and your Cobra Eel Rekowsky formed a very strong friendship. Strong enough to where Rekowsky told Bob everything about your plan to kill the Commander. But wait-a-minute, Destro! Your little scheme failed, didn't it, considering your hitman was in jail at the time. What a shame."

The wineglass in Destro's hand shattered as he clenched it, and the cognac sprayed across the room. "Damn you, Zartan. Damn you and all of your accursed Dreadnok filth."

Zartan wiped champagne off of his body and moved to the other end of the sofa, protecting himself from the raging Scottsman. "I had nothing to do with your failed plan, Destro. I am just here to tell you that I know about it."

_And that you want money in order to keep quiet._

"And that it will take a monthly donation on your part to keep me from telling everyone else that you had no part in killing Cobra Commander."

"So you came here for profit, instead of truth?"

Zartan smiled. "Oh, I needed truths in order to get my profit. And I think I now have both."

Destro walked over to his liquor cabinet, picked up a towel and wiped his arm off. "Zartan, did 'Bob' find out that there was another Eel working for me in New York?"

"What?"

"So that if Rekowsky failed, the other could complete the task-at-hand?"

Zartan's mouth moved, but no sound came out.

"It is true. His name is Gutters. He was being trained by Rekowsky when I 'enlisted' them. Look him up if you wish."

Zartan sat in silence.

"Perhaps 'Bob' didn't do such a great job at squeezing the truths out of Rekowsky, eh?" Destro looked over to Zartan and threw the towel in his face. "Now, get out of my chambers before I have you carried out in a garbage bag."

Zartan yanked the towel off, revealing an angry scowl upon his face and a red glow upon his chest; but he didn't say anything more. He stood up and walked quietly out of the room—making sure to slam the door.

Destro placed his hand across his mouth. _What if what he told me is true? I certainly haven't heard from Rekowsky. Or Gutters, for that matter. But if they failed, who shot Cobra Commander?_

Destro poured another glass of cognac and walked towards his bedroom, more confused—and stressed out—than ever before.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**Guinea Pigs**

Duke was exhausted; after all, he had been up since two in the morning discussing theories and strategies with General Hawk and Flint. But there was no force on Earth that could knock him out now. Too much was at stake and too many lives were on the line.

After taking a swig of Roadblock's special triple-strength gourmet coffee, Duke set his mug down and looked across the group of Joes collected into the Main Conference Room of the PIT. Flint, Lady Jaye, Psyche-Out, Falcon, Stalker, Breaker and Hawk all stood around sipping coffee and making small talk, waiting for Duke to start his debriefing.

They didn't have to wait long.

"Okay, Joes, let me have your attention." commanded the Joe Master Sergeant. The group of Joes stopped talking and looked to the head of the table. "I'm sure a lot of you are wondering why we called you here so early in the morning. There are two things you must know. One: Cobra has a nuke."

"What?" gasped Falcon.

Not missing a beat, Duke continued, "Number Two: we were ordered by Senator Bartell to assassinate Cobra Commander."

Looks of shock spread across the faces of the Joes. It was a lot to take in at once. The shock quickly turned to rage on Stalker's face, however. "Why wasn't I told about any of this?"

Hawk answered the question. "I'm sorry, Stalker, nobody is supposed to know about the nuke, and the assassination was very much a 'members-only' operation. Only Duke, Flint, Low-Light and myself knew about the mission until now." Lady Jaye bit her lip and looked the other way.

"Why did the government want Cobra Commander dead?" asked Psyche-Out.

Duke waved his hand. "I'm sorry, but we can't answer any questions right now. Rest assured we'll fill you in on everything soon enough. At this time I need to let you know that Low-Light never got a shot at the Commander; someone else did. Or more importantly, they want us to _believe_ they did."

"I'm not following you." said Falcon.

Flint walked over to the main monitor and tapped Breaker on the shoulder. The Joe Communications Trooper blew a bubblegum bubble and typed on the control panel. The monitor displayed news footage of Cobra Commander's murder at the United Nations.

"Here it is," said Duke as he pointed to the screen with a laser pen pointer, "All nice and bloody fresh for our eyes. The Joes watched the Head Snake get shot again and again from different angles; neither enjoying nor condemning the fall of their arch-enemy. Breaker tapped a button on the control panel, and a video of the shooting reduced its speed to slow motion. "Watch here," ordered Duke, "Something hits the Commander, there's no denying that, but thanks to modern high-definition cameras, you can see more detail than ever before. Look at his chest."

Stalker was the first to comment, "He's wearing a vest."

"Exactly. You can see the edges around his chest and stomach."

"But that really doesn't matter, Duke," said Falcon, "There are a lot of sniper rifles out there that can penetrate Kevlar."

"True enough, but watch what happens when he's hit." Breaker slowed down the video to frame-by-frame, and handed Duke a remote that gave him control of the progress. "Blood splatters out of his chest, and if you look very closely…" Duke pressed a button and the screen zoomed in to Cobra Commander's right side. A silvery smudge was sticking out of the bullet's point of impact.

"What is that?" asked Lady Jaye.

"Enhance it, Breaker." ordered Duke. The image cleared up dramatically, revealing—

"A dart?" guessed Stalker.

Hawk nodded and walked up beside Duke. "That's what we're thinking. You can barely see it thanks to all the blood spraying around, but it looks like he was struck in the chest with a small dart, designed to pop a packet of blood lined into his vest."

"You'll notice here…" Duke advanced the video to when the Cobra Leader grabbed his chest. "That the Commander puts his hand on his chest. But look what happens when he falls over." The video progressed to the Commander's fall—his hand moved, and the dart was gone, with the Commander's hand clenched tight.

"So the big Snake took the dart out as he fell." said Falcon. "Nice."

"And to top it off," said Duke as he advanced the video to when the Crimson Guardsmen ran to the Commander's side, "This Siegie held Cobra Commander's hand for a moment. I really doubt it was because they were close friends. That has to be where the dart ended up."

"How did you guys figure this all out?" asked Psyche-Out. "It's not exactly obvious."

Flint caught the question. "What bothered me the most, and I assume bothered Duke and Hawk, was how much blood shot out in so short a time. It just wasn't logical."

Hawk nodded. "Exactly. It looked too…artificial."

Duke stepped away from the monitors and looked even more serious. "But there's more. Stalker and I tried to find the hospital that the Commander went to, and had a lot of trouble."

"What?" Falcon looked shocked. "Wouldn't he have been taken straight to a hospital on FDR Drive?"

"That's what we expected." said Stalker. "But his ambulance never showed up at any of them. We looked at every hospital on the Drive and couldn't find him. We finally tried Roosevelt Hospital clear on the west side of Manhattan and found out that the ambulance went there. But Cobra Commander's body was never registered at the hospital. No one knows what happened to it."

"Are you serious?" gasped Lady Jaye. "Any ideas where he is?"

Duke nodded. "We got a notice from Extensive Enterprises just ten minutes after we found the ambulance that they took the body and no longer needed the city's services."

"That's ridiculous!" cried Falcon. "This stinks of a set-up."

"Exactly." said Hawk. The G.I. Joe General looked sternly at his team. "This situation is a bizarre one, but I feel we need to take care of it before it grows into something we can't control. Right now the world doesn't seem to know that the Head Snake may still be alive. That's good. But this is starting to stink like some scheme of the Commander's. That's god damn awful. I don't want too many people knowing about this. I brought each of you here for your special skills, skills I feel will help us find the Commander. And we better do it quick. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" cried out the team.

"Excellent. Now, let's find this dirty snake."

"Um, sir?" said Breaker, not taking his eyes off of the television monitor, "You better see this."

1.

Destro stepped up to the podium and flipped through his speech papers. It had been a long time since he had made a televised declaration to the world, and the anticipation was almost overwhelming. To think that Cobra Commander had done this just yesterday to the United Nations was mind-boggling. After all, Destro was far more qualified to be making historical statements, was he not?

The set-up was extravagant. Giant flaming snake's-head torches flanked a massive bronze statue of the Cobra logo. It was all in front of a golden-brick wall draped with silk curtains. One thing Cobra knew how to do was to lay-it-on-thick.

This statement was different, however. News media from around the world was actually _invited_ to Cobra Island to broadcast Destro's speech so that it would be sure to reach every corner of the Earth. The cluster of reporters, microphones and video-cameras looked a bit like some high-tech jungle spilled across the floor in front of Destro's podium.

The Baroness walked over to Destro and whispered an empty bit of praise into the new Cobra Leader's ear. He tried to ignore it, but the sound of her voice was always too luscious to his ears. Still, looking at the speech written on the papers before him he felt almost nauseous. He had written a grand declaration to the world, but the other high-ranking agents of Cobra saw fit to "enhance" it, and so it no longer carried the true heart of James McCullen Destro.

As the Baroness walked away, Destro tapped the mic in front of him. "Is this thing on? Good."

2.

"Before we begin, let me introduce myself. I am Destro, Lord of the Castle Destro in the Highlands of Scotland, successful weapons manufacturer and most importantly, the new leader of the Cobra Organization.

"Does that make me a terrorist? Hardly. I am a man of honor. Cobra will reach levels of greatness never before achieved under my guidance. Cobra is no longer a name to be feared, but rather to be embraced in friendship.

"The assassination of Cobra Commander was a despicable act, but we want to tell whoever did it, whoever you are that murdered our great leader: we forgive you.

"Why would a former terrorist organization say such a thing? Because it is time to move on. It is time for us to grow. Cobra Commander's final order, that of transforming the Cobra military into a World Police Force, will continue under my rule. Perhaps in time, more of the larger, more distrusting countries can see that we mean them no harm and we can all be allies.

"So, assassin, your murder of our leader has accomplished nothing. It has merely increased our resolve. You have not weakened Cobra, you have strengthened us, gave us new hope and focus. Some shall say you are a hero. I say that you were a fool. For Cobra is still has more power than you can imagine, and cannot be wiped from the face of the Earth due to the loss of just one man.

"Thank you for your time, and Cobra!"

3.

Hawk leaned back in his chair and sighed. On the screen, Destro walked away from the podium and reporters began analyzing what had just been said. It was the third time Hawk watched the speech, this time from his office. Duke and Flint again sat with him around his desk, attempting to ascertain just what goes on in the minds of mad men.

Duke began twiddling his thumbs. "What do you suppose all that meant?"

"It means Cobra is trying to get the world to trust it."

"They've been playing that scheme for a while now. I say Destro wants more." said Flint.

"Yeah, he was getting serious." Hawk cursed, stood up and began pacing the Main Conference Room. "He's obviously establishing that Cobra is indestructible; trying to scare away any more competition."

"Do you think he's scared of something?" asked Duke."

"More likely some_one._"

Flint shrugged his shoulders. "So what do we do?"

Hawk stood up and looked at the world map on the wall. "Destro's fears are his own problem. Right now we have to deal with Cobra's rise in popularity. We need to call up our reserves and smother them out."

Duke walked over to the map. "Cobra has a nuke, and C.C. is still running around. Leave those problems to me and Flint."

Hawk took a swig of coffee. "Duke, old friend, if things work out the way I think they will, I'm afraid I'll have to leave everything up to you."

4.

Scarlett looked at her Big Mac and frowned. Fast junk food was not something she ate very often, but Shockwave insisted that they met at a McDonalds just a few blocks off of Interstate-70. The S.W.A.T.-Trooper and Hit & Run hadn't eaten for over twelve hours, and Scarlett could feel her stomach rumble a bit as well; but she had never gone to a McDonalds while on assignment before.

Still, it wasn't a bad idea; Cobra would never expect a group of Joes to meet up at a fast-food joint on Topeka's west side. Of course, the Joes stuck out like sore thumbs, especially Snake Eyes. That's why he decided to stay in the Desert Fox and wait for the others to finish eating. Scarlett would bring him a Quarter-Pounder with Cheese when they were ready to go.

"So you're sure you saw a Condor?" asked the Joe Counter-Intelligence Trooper as she tried to find the best spot to bite her hamburger.

"Absolutely." said Hit & Run as he scarfed down a handful of fries. They have a pretty distinct design to them."

Shockwave set down the day's issue of the Topeka Capital-Journal newspaper he was reading; it carried the headline "UFO Races Across I-35 Turnpike". "I didn't see it, but we, and these newspaper reporters talked to about a dozen other people who did. They all agreed that it was a large, white, crossbow-shaped plane that couldn't have been more than fifty yards above the ground and flying northeast."

Scarlett bit her burger and thought to herself for a minute. "It doesn't make sense." she said after swallowing. "There is no way that Cobra can land a Condor at that little airstrip. Those backwards-bombers are way too big and powerful."

Shockwave shrugged. "Well, it had to have landed somewhere around here. It couldn't have made it from Cobra Island without refueling."

Scarlett pushed away her Big Mac, took a sip of her soda and stood up. "Well, let's work with what we already have and get back to searching Orcba Field. There may be more clues there for us to find. And we have to interrogate the Night Creeper we left tied up."

The two male Joes shoved their burgers into their mouths and followed Scarlett out of the door.

Half of an hour later, the VAMP and Desert Fox turned in to Orcba Field and drove up to the central hangar.

"Does anything look different?" asked Hit & Run as he stepped out of the VAMP.

"Yep." replied Scarlett. She pointed to the front entrance. "The doors are open." Sure enough, the front left panel had been slid over almost two feet.

"Do we go in?" asked Shockwave.

Drawing and loading her crossbow, Scarlett sighed, "We don't have much of a choice."

The team proceeded forward with Snake Eyes at the point. Once they reached the main entrance, the Commando looked in. Empty, save the normal equipment and the rug. Snake Eyes pushed the door a few inches further left, then stepped inside the vast chamber. The other Joes cautiously followed, but once inside, no one could see anything out of the ordinary. It didn't seem to be a trap of any kind.

"Does anything else look wrong?" asked Hit & Run.

"Nothing." Scarlett pointed to the rug. "The rug hasn't even moved an inch."

"I'm getting a bit freaked out."

"Shut up, H&R!" snapped Shockwave.

Snake Eyes walked over to the secret entrance and grabbed the handle. He gently lifted it, swung the door back and proceeded down the stairs. The Joes soon followed him.

At the base of the stairway, Snake Eyes stopped moving and hung his head low. "What's the matter, Snake Eyes?" asked Scarlett, but she received her answer just by looking over the Commando's shoulders.

The room was completely empty.

"Damn." cursed the Counter-Intelligence Trooper.

"They cleaned the whole place out?" gasped Hit & Run.

Snake Eyes looked up the stairway, and drew his sword. "What is it, Snake?" asked Shockwave.

"Shh!" hushed Scarlett. Aching painfully to hear a sound, the Joes felt fear as the beating pulse of a twin-rotor helicopter grew louder and louder.

"Oh my god, is that a Mamba?"

"Don't be stupid, Hit & Run." growled Shockwave. "They couldn't hide any Mambas around here."

"Well, braniac, they're hiding a Condor pretty damn well."

"Shh! It's gotta be a cargo chopper. One of their big blue ones you don't see very often."

"Whatever it is, it's bad news. Let's get out of here." ordered Scarlett. Snake Eyes pushed his way past everyone and steadily walked back up the stairs. But as soon as his head cleared the exit, he ducked from a spray of heavy-machinegun fire that tore up the hangar's rear wall.

"What the hell?" cried Hit & Run.

"S.A.W.-Viper, eighty to a hundred yards away." analyzed Shockwave.

"How can you tell?"

"It's easy. Just listen."

"Listen?" doubted Hit & Run, "There's a helicopter out there that's making it hard for me to hear myself think, and you can label and range a distant machinegunner through all that?"

"Of course."

"Alright you two, enough." said Scarlett. "We're pinned down in here. Look for another way out."

"You got it." they said in unison.

As Shockwave and Hit & Run searched the empty dark room, Scarlett turned back to Snake Eyes, who was tying together a handful of grenades with a loose piece of rope. "That better just be for a distraction, because you'll never get that cluster to fly far enough. We don't even know where the S.A.W.-Viper is."

Snake Eyes tapped his cracked visor.

"But _you_ do, don't you? You're the only one of us who got a look up top." Scarlett grinned. "You should have played more baseball with Hardball and the guys, 'cause you don't have a great right arm." Snake Eyes frowned at her for a moment, then finished tying the grenades together.

The other two Joes walked back over and turned off their flashlights. "Sorry, Scarlett," said Shockwave, "This place is air tight. There isn't a single hole in the wall."

Scarlett nodded and listened as sounds of a loud, rumbling engine began to drown out the thundering helicopter beat. "Something else is moving out there. We need to get out, now!"

Snake Eyes gently pushed Scarlett back a couple feet, then pulled the pins out of the grenades. Taking a step back, Snake Eyes sprinted forward and hurled the grenade cluster out of the underground chamber, sending it flying out of the hangar's main doors. The Joe Commando grabbed his Uzi, cocked it and looked at the other Joes. They took the cue and grabbed their own weapons and set them.

Then the explosions started: a trio of hard, brief bangs that overpowered the sound of the cargo copter and mysterious rumble.

Snake Eyes leapt out of the hole and ran across the hangar. It was almost five seconds before Cobra machinegun-fire began chasing him through the building. Snake Eyes rolled across the floor and took a firing position on his stomach. His bursts of fire forced the S.A.W.-Viper to duck for cover.

Sensing that all was clear for a moment, Scarlett raced up the stairs, followed quickly by her teammates. They took positions along the sides of the hangar doors while Snake Eyes stayed on his stomach in the middle of the hangar entranceway keeping the S.A.W,-Viper busy. After a few moments, the Viper abandoned his rifle and scrambled across the short grass towards the hangar with a large helicopter hovering above it.

"There he goes!" cried Hit & Run, "Let's get out of here!"

"No, Hit & Run, stop!" but Scarlett's cry was too late. As the Joe Light Infantryman ran for the abandoned S.A.W.-Viper's machinegun, a heavy explosion shattered the ground nearby, sending him tumbling across the grass.

Scarlett looked towards the sound of the rumbling engine, and sure to her suspicions, a H.I.S.S. tank was rolling down from outside the northernmost hangar with its cannons smoking. _Dammit, Hit & Run, you really need to learn how to listen for enemy weapons._

"Scarlett! Permission to go rescue Hit & Run!" pleaded Shockwave.

"Denied! We don't have anything that can scratch that H.I.S.S.!" called back the Mission Leader. That lack of weapon-strength was even more painfully true now that Snake Eyes' grenades were gone. Scarlett looked back into the hangar and frowned. There were gas tanks, but they were too heavy and cumbersome to throw. When she looked back over to Snake Eyes she panicked—_where is he!_

Another burst of sound rattled the hangar as the H.I.S.S. sent a duo of shells through the thin aluminum walls of the structure. The shells exploded on the outside of the far wall.

"God damn! What is that ninja guy doing?" Shockwave stepped out of the doorway and pointed his own Uzi at the H.I.S.S., giving some cover-fire to Snake Eyes as the commando ran across the field to grab the S.A.W.-Viper's gun, turn it eighty-degrees right and open fire on the H.I.S.S. The tank's windshield began cracking and finally shattered. The H.I.S.S.-Driver inside jumped out of the cockpit and ran for the far hangar that the cargo 'copter was lowering cables into.

Snake-Eyes altered his aim and started pelting the front left tread. The heavy-machinegun's armor-piercing shells ripped through the steel and tore the tread apart. Using all of his strength, Snake-Eyes hefted the machinegun up and walked over by Hit & Run. The H.I.S.S.-Driver in the cannon turret jumped out of the tank and ran back for the distant hangar.

With grass and dust blowing through her red ponytail, Scarlett walked over to Snake Eyes and spoke loudly to him, "How much ammo do you have left? Snake Eyes lifted up a long belt. "Looks like they planned to keep us pinned down for a while."

Suddenly, sounds of smashing metal rang through the air. Shockwave ran over to the Joes and his cap blew off. "They just collapsed the end hangar! There's something inside that they've hooked the 'copter up to, and they took the building apart in order to get to it!"

The Joes watched the cargo helicopter rise slowly into the air, pulling a large crate out of the hangar's wreckage with long steel cables.

"There's our nuke!" cried Shockwave.

Snake Eyes ran towards the H.I.S.S. and set up the heavy machinegun on its left side. Scarlett ran over to him and took a belt-feeder position. The Joe Commando opened fire on the helicopter, taking great care not to hit the crate dangling below it. Flashes of bullet strikes spread across the chopper and smoke started to pour out of its left side. Cobra troops on the ground—mostly Air-Vipers and a couple of Techno-Vipers—turned towards the Joes and began firing back. Shockwave did his best to suppress their fire, but his Uzi did little good at such a distance.

Then he got an idea.

Dropping his sub-machinegun, Shockwave climbed up into the H.I.S.S.'s turret and spun it around towards the hangar. He had never operated a Cobra tank before, but the controls were ridiculously simple. He aimed for the Vipers on the ground and fired. The twin 90mm cannons launched a pair of shells that exploded beneath the helicopter, shaking the crate a bit, but also sending a lot of Vipers jumping for their lives.

Suddenly, the side of the H.I.S.S. tank blasted apart. Shockwave screamed in pain and leapt out of the turret with his feet on fire. Rolling on the ground quickly extinguished the flames. Scarlett looked across the airfield and went pale.

"Oh no!"

Snake Eyes turned to see what, or rather who, had frightened Scarlett: Metal-Head jumped off the back of a pick-up truck with two of his missile launchers smoking. He quickly opened fire on the Joes with a pistol and started running at them.

"Snake Eyes, swing that gun around and take out Metal-Head, now!"

Following orders, the Joe Commando hefted up the large weapon and attempted to get a shot at Destro's Anti-Tank Specialist. But Metal-Head was already set to shoot. "Range: twenty-seven meters. Elevation: 1 meter. Bang! Bang!" Two missiles from his right leg's launcher fired out and streaked across Orcba Field. Snake Eyes abandoned the S.A.W.-Viper heavy-machinegun and rolled to his right. Behind him, the missiles smashed into the burning H.I.S.S., causing it to explode again.

Chunks of hot black metal rained down onto the Joes on the field as they covered their heads. "We can't keep taking hits like these." said Scarlett.

Shockwave limped across the grass and picked up his Uzi. I'll try to stop him."

"Don't be stupid!" cried Scarlett. "He's packing better armor than that H.I.S.S.!"

"Don't you think I know that? I'm going to distract him so that Snake can grab that Viper gun again. I won't last long, so get moving!" With that, Shockwave ran towards the Anti-Tank Specialist yelling out curses and firing well-aimed bursts from his sub-machinegun. Metal-Head shook, but did not fall. Snake Eyes scrambled back over to the heavy-machinegun and aimed it at Metal-Head, but the walking missile-launcher saw what was happening and reacted.

Screaming "Bang", Metal-Head launched a poorly-aimed rocket towards Snake Eyes. It flew over the Joe's head and exploded twenty feet behind him. It may have missed, but it kept the commando from shooting long enough for the driver of the pick-up truck to finish setting up a weapon of his own.

Scarlett was the first to notice that the driver was Scrap-Iron, setting his missile-launcher down on the field. Adjusting his goggles, the Anti-Armor Specialist raised the wired remote control to his missile launcher, looked at the Joes, and grinned.

"Snake Eyes! Watch out! Scrap-Iron is set to fire!" warned the Joe Counter-Intelligence Trooper, but it was to no avail. The Joe commando was running across the field dodging Metal-Head's pistol shots. The Anti-Tank Specialist had grabbed Shockwave and was now using him as a human shield. Snake Eyes drew his katana and leapt through the arm, swinging his sword down at Metal-Head's right side.

As Snake Eyes passed Metal-Head, the Iron-Grenadier's right-thigh-missile-launcher dropped to the ground. Enraged, Metal-Head threw Shockwave away from himself and turned to face the Joe Commando.

"You busted my launcher! No one busts my launcher!" He then took a stance and aimed his last missile, the lower rocket in his left-leg-launcher. "Range: seven meters. Elevation: One meter." Snake Eyes stepped to his left, then took a defensive stance and raised his sword. Metal-Head smiled, and nearly laughed. "Bang!"

His last missile fired out and raced the short distance towards the Joe Commando. But Snake Eyes simply leaned to his left, evading the rocket as it blasted through the air…and straight into the black Chevy pick-up truck that Metal-Head and Scrap-Iron had arrived in. Hit by the concussive force of the explosion, Scrap-Iron fell face-first onto the ground.

Metal-Head cursed out loud as he watched the truck burn. Realizing he didn't know where Snake Eyes was anymore, he searched around, only to jump up as he heard a loud _thud _on his left side. Looking down, he saw that his left leg's missile-launcher had been cut off. Turning around, the last thing he saw was a black-gloved fist smash into his face.

Scrap-Iron wiped the dirt from his goggles and stood back up. As he put the goggles back on, he watched Metal-Head crash to the ground. Knowing he didn't have much time, he turned his rocket launcher towards Snake Eyes and adjusted the controls on his remote. Suddenly, an arrow flew into the launcher right where the remote's cable connects to it, severing the wire. Looking to his left, Scrap-Iron saw Scarlett re-load her crossbow.

"Get away from the launcher, now!" ordered the Joe.

Scrap-Iron grinned and kicked it around, aiming for Scarlett. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a wireless remote and turned it on. Scarlett fired another arrow, nailing the Iron Grenadier in the collar-bone. Scrap-Iron cried out in pain and dropped the remote. Scarlett then ran over to him and picked up the remote. "Nice try."

Shockwave ran over to Scarlett and pointed back towards the hangars. "Looks like the chopper is almost to the Kansas River, and there's no way we can catch it!"

Scarlett looked at the remote in her hand. "Maybe we don't need to."

Scratching his head, Shockwave looked at the launcher. "Do you really think we can use this?"

Scarlett spun it around and aimed it towards the 'copter. "We don't have much of a choice." Watching the targeting controls on the remote, Scarlett waited until the helicopter was in the crosshairs, then pressed the "Fire-1" button. The left missile blasted out of the launcher, arcing across the sky until it smoked past the helicopter.

"Damn!" cursed Scarlett. "I thought Scrap-Iron's missiles never missed!" Scrap-Iron began laughing, but quickly stopped and grabbed his shoulder.

Shockwave looked at the remote. "Maybe try this button." He pointed to a red button titled "Nunquam Requiro".

Scarlett looked at him in confusion. "Is that Latin? What the heck does that mean?"

Shockwave smiled. "It means 'Never Miss'."

Scarlett punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Where did you learn to speak Latin?"

"I'm a choir singer. I taught myself Latin to help me learn more music."

"I'm impressed. Okay, here we go." Scarlett pressed the button, and a couple red lights on the launcher turned green. Once the helicopter was in the sights again, she pressed "Fire-2". This time, the missile launched and raced directly for the 'copter with a vengeance. It blew out the side of the aircraft, dropping it from the sky like a rock.

"Okay Joes," said Scarlett to Snake Eyes and Shockwave, "We need to get over to that helicopter wreckage, fast. Let' move it!"

The sound of a jeep engine caught the Joes off guard, and they turned around to see the Desert Fox pull up with Hit & Run at the wheel.

"H&R, what are you doing? You're a mess!" said Shockwave.

Nodding, Hit & Run replied, "I know, but I can still drive. Hop on, guys. I'll get you down to that helicopter."

Knowing that they didn't have much of a choice, the Joes climbed on board the Desert Fox, and Snake Eyes loosely mounted the S.A.W.-Viper heavy-machinegun onto the jeep's empty gun turret—it didn't quite fit, but it worked well enough. Hit & Run revved the engine and the Joes drove north towards the flames spreading across the shore of the Kansas River.

The Fox screeched to a halt by the wreckage and the Joes jumped out, eager to examine the cracked-but-unbroken cargo crate, when a new, dark rumble filled the sky.

"Look!" cried Shockwave as he pointed up into the air. The Joes gasped with fear as the gray silhouette of a Cobra Condor descended over the airfield. The large bomber opened its bomb-bay doors and began spilling a shower of destruction across the row of hangars.

"Move! Move! Move!" cried out Scarlett as she sprinted for the river. The other Joes did the same, with Snake Eyes and Shockwave carrying Hit & Run away from the airfield.

As the Joes watched from water, the Condor incinerated the last standing hangar with a massive explosion. Pulling up, the long, narrow bomber took off into the distance, passing high over the helicopter's wreckage.

Snake Eyes was the first to step back out of the water and reach the now-shattered debris of the wooden crate. He picked up a chunk of wood and threw it aside. Shockwave walked up and looked at what Snake Eyes had just revealed.

"What the hell?" cursed the S.W.A.T. Trooper.

Snake Eyes reached down and picked up a Cessna plane's landing gear.

"Plane parts?" asked Hit & Run as he limped up to the wreckage. He watched Scarlett grab a propeller out of the smoking wreckage.

"Plane parts." growled Scarlett. She looked back to the flaming wreckage of Orcba Field. "There's no nuke here. We got duped."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**Expansion**

The mission reports did not lie: G.I. Joe took the bait: hook, line and sinker. Cobra Commander's plan of letting the Topeka, Kansas shipping report get into Joe hands had worked beautifully. Now, at only the cost of a H.I.S.S. tank, a cargo helicopter and a few Vipers, the nuclear weapon had made its way to its true destination completely untouched by the G.I. Joe team. Unfortunately, Scrap-Iron and Metal-Head had been taken into custody, but that problem could be fixed with money, as most things in Destro's world could be.

_I suppose I should have told them where the nuke really was after Dr. Mindbender had told me. Oh well, their attack strengthened the deception._

Destro put down the reports and grabbed his cup of tea. It was exceptionally good this morning, since it was his favorite blend, flown in from his castle in Scotland. A large pot of the drink sat on his chamber's main table. Naturally, it had to be drunk with his facemask taken off, and gentle music playing in the background.

But the peaceful ambiance was not to last.

Dr. Mindbender charged into the room, obviously irate and in no mood to respect Destro's typical calls for respect. But the new Cobra Leader was too relaxed to share his new guest's foul mood. "Ah, dear doctor, to what do I owe the honor of your presence?"

As if given the cue to strike, Mindbender kicked over one of the table's chairs and pointed to the mission reports resting on the table. "Have you read these reports?"

"Indeed, I had just finished them."

Boggled, the doctor nearly threw his monocle at his new leader. "Then why aren't you out making a public statement apologizing for our actions at the airfield?"

Destro set his tea down. "Because I am perfectly happy with what happened there."

Dr. Mindbender hunched over the table and growled at Destro. "Are you serious? You ordered one of your bombers to obliterate an airfield in the United States of America! We have a new image to uphold, Destro! We can no longer be seen as rogue terrorists!"

Destro stood up and re-attached his facemask, then stared at the doctor with his cold, titanium-alloy face. "We also can't be seen as weaklings, my dear doctor. Even the Commander knew that. That's why his little 'Save the World' scheme has been so harsh. I have no intentions of softening our image, be it for this accursed plan of his or not! The Joe team was about to unearth a massive Cobra weapons stockpile at that airfield. If I had just left it alone, the world would be shocked and appalled at what Cobra had done. How would that have looked to your precious image, hmm?"

Dr. Mindbender was silent.

"It is unfortunate that we had to destroy a weapons depot and possibly hurt our image, but Cobra Commander had convinced the Joe team that the nuclear weapon was hidden there. Foolish? Surprisingly, not in the least. Would the Joes have believed we kept a nuke in a Miami beach resort? No likely.

"But if it is 'Save the World' you want, then it is 'Save the World' you shall get!" Destro swept his arm across the table, destroying the fine china tea-set. He turned back to the cringing Dr. Mindbender. "Triple our law-enforcement forces! We are going to clean up the Earth!"

1.

Twelve hours later:

"Havana. Istanbul. New York. Madrid. Hong Kong. Sydney." General Hawk lowered his laser-pointer away from the giant map of the Earth projected across the wall of the PIT's top floor. He turned to proudly look across his sea of highly-trained soldiers, a.k.a. the G.I. Joe team. Nearly every single member of the team was in the room, which normally held a great deal of vehicles, but today it had been cleared out in order to hold dozens and dozens of U.S. Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine and Coast Guard Troops, eager to hear the inspirational words of their leader.

"These are just a handful of the cities attacked by Cobra's police actions," continued Hawk, "It seems that overnight, Cobra grew some bigger balls and decided to get a bit more ambitious, because now they are _everywhere._" The General pocketed the pointer and stood at ease. "We can't let these actions go on, because every time they happen, someone gets hurt, or quite often dies. Needless to say, what Cobra is doing is a crime against humanity, because the ends do not justify the means." Hawk looked over to Mainframe, who typed something onto his computer; the map projection began filling with blue dots. "This is where I want all of you to be by the end of the day. Squads of four Joes each will head out to each of these cities and wait for Cobra to enforce their "blue-style" of justice. Somebody will find something, I promise you."

Captain Grid-Iron raised his arm. "What about the countries of the world that support Cobra's actions? Are we allowed there?"

"No. But you're going to get there anyways."

"Excuse me?" asked Big Ben.

Hawk walked over to the right side of the platform he was standing on and looked across his team. "This mission is not approved by the Pentagon. In fact, I got into a lot of trouble for even suggesting it. But I'm asking you to do it anyways. It's too big for us to just ignore, and I'll have words with anyone who asks me to. Are all of you willing to join me in this unsanctioned war tactic, for the sake of defeating Cobra?"

"Yo Joe!" roared the crowd at a near-deafening level.

Hawk smiled, but the cheer quickly erased from his face. "Unfortunately, I can't go with you. I've been called back to Washington to explain why I would request this mission. Therefore, Duke will take command of the mission from now on."

Lots of murmuring rumbled through the crowd.

Hawk walked back towards the exit and raised his arm. "Do me proud, men. I'll keep Washington busy as long as possible. Yo Joe!"

"Yo Joe!" screamed the troops, even louder than before, and this time with their arms raised high.

"All right, you dogs," said Duke as he walked onto the platform and Hawk left the top floor of the PIT, "Come up here to get your squad assignments from Mainframe, Dial-Tone or Breaker. And I don't want any complaints! Most of you should feel pretty damn happy that you're getting an assignment after so long in the reserves."

"Amen to that." whispered Sergeant Slaughter.

2.

"You sent them where?"

Major Bludd nervously blinked his one working eye. "They went to St. Petersburg to break an illegal smuggling ring across the Latvian border."

Destro grabbed the Major's cybernetic arm and pulled him closer. "You don't need Matrix Cannons to stop a thirty-year-old Russian cargo-truck from charging a Latvian border checkpoint." Destro handed Major Bludd a satellite phone and growled in his face. "Now get those cannons back here and send a squad of H.E.A.T.-Vipers to replace them. The Vipers should be quite sufficient to stop a vehicle of any size on the roadways."

Major Bludd grimaced, but nodded, turned around and left the Cobra Temple's Main Operations Center.

_Perhaps the Major is not worthy of placement in the Iron Grenadiers after all._

Still, Destro smiled, enjoying his new-found authority and confident that his cocky grin was well-hidden behind his silvery facemask.

He was wrong.

"Enjoying your position of dominance, dear Destro?" The new Cobra Leader turned to see the Baroness standing behind him with her arms crossed and frowning.

Destro walked over to the incoming-information computers. "It is not joy towards any type of personal gain, my rebellious flower, but towards knowing that at long last Cobra is receiving the leadership it has long deserved."

Baroness raised an eyebrow. "Rebellious? Do not tell me that you are still upset that I chose to re-join Cobra Commander once I learned the potential of his final scheme."

Destro turned from the news reports and looked at his lost lover. "Baroness, we have long been allies, even lovers, far longer than you have known the Commander. How could you turn from me so quickly without even a word of consolidation?"

The Baroness looked down in silence, then walked over to a couple of eaves-dropping Tele-Vipers and ordered them to leave the room. She sat down in one of their abandoned chairs and looked back to Destro. "I need vengeance, Destro. The G.I. Joe team ruined our best chance ever for victory by defeating the Matrix Cannon, and I want to make them pay."

Destro sighed. "If you want another Matrix Cannon, use one of Dr. Mindbender's fragile contraptions. I will never make one again."

Baroness stood up and grabbed Destro's hand. "I know, my dear, and that is also why I had to leave you. But now that you are the Cobra Leader, we can destroy the G.I. Joe team in different ways, ways without the Matrix Cannon!"

Destro shook his head. "I won't use the nuclear weapon."

Baroness vigorously shook her head. "You don't have to! But it is still an asset, a powerful asset that can be used to instill fear in our enemies and respect in our allies."

Pulling his hand away, Destro stepped back. "What do you want me to do? Sit on a throne and make empty threats? That sounds sickeningly familiar."

Walking over to Destro and wrapping her arms around her lover, the Baroness grinned. "Of course not. But whatever you decide, it can still do for you what Cobra Commander could never accomplish."

Destro gently tilted his head against hers. "And what might that be, dearest Baroness?"

After kissing Destro's cold metal facemask, she replied, "Wipe out the G.I. Joe team, once and for all."

3.

11:30a.m. Los Angeles

Joe Devonshire munched on his pork rinds. It was just about lunchtime, and his little bar and grill would start to see a trickle of business over the next two hours. Fine by him. Another day, another dollar, and boy did he need one. His wife's fortieth birthday was not going to be a cheap one, she was making sure of that.

After flicking on the television above the bar, Joe began wiping the counter. When the TV's sound kicked in, though, he jumped.

Police sirens blared and Joe turned around to look at the boob-tube. It was an old image in southern California: police cars giving chase to a freeway speeder. At least this time it was a nice car—a silver Corvette

Swerving through the northbound traffic, the sports car accelerated to incredible-looking speeds, leaving the police in the dust. Police cars blasted past the traffic that was desperately pulling to the side of the interstate, and tried to give chase to the Corvette. Their sirens screamed in useless attempts to warn the people down the road that danger was coming—but the sleek sports car gave everyone a pretty good idea of that well before the sirens could be heard.

Joe shook his head. _Why are they showing this? I thought they weren't even chasing crazy speeders anymore. _

When the answer to his question flew on screen, Joe's eyes bugged out. "Oh no!"

Above and behind the police cars flew in a blue A-10 Warthog, or at least that's what it looked like. Joe realized that it was no Warthog when he recognized the red Cobra logo on its wing. The television-reporter's act of widening his zoom-lens didn't make the plane look any less menacing.

Closing in on the Corvette, the Cobra plane began firing its Gatling-gun, tearing up the freeway and nearly obliterating every vehicle on the road, including police and the sports car.

Confused, Joe watched as the jet-craft stopped shooting and pulled right; as it did, however, its tail was struck by a missile and burst into flame.

Two people entered the bar and grill just as Joe grabbed his little TV and screamed "Yes!" The potential customers stopped in their tracks, turned around and exited back out the door.

On the screen, the Cobra plane spun into a horizontal crash and skidded across an empty brown stretch of hillside. The television reporter desperately tried to find where the missile came from, and as his camera panned, a pair of green G.I. Joe vehicles—the kind that looked like outdoor lamps with jet thrusters attached to them—zipped past the helicopter. The G.I. Joe air vehicles quickly landed by the wreckage and the pilots jumped out.

Joe sat down on a stool and smiled. "The Joes are back in town! Drinks are on the house!"

Turning around, Joe saw that his little restaurant was quite empty. He shrugged his shoulders and poured himself a small shot of whiskey, then thought about making himself a big Philly cheesesteak.

4.

1:00p.m.: Jammu and Kashmir, India

Screaming protests into the air, the citizens of Pahalgam marched up and down the Market's street, condemning Pakistan's claim of their region. Tensions had been building for days after two Indian men were killed near the border. Pakistani citizens were blamed, and less than twelve hours later, three Pakistanis were found murdered on their side of the border.

The Indian police had been attempting to control the riots, but to little avail. The armed forces were on their way, and were expected to clean up the streets by tomorrow morning.

Senajit looked down from the roof of his apartment, holding a small stuffed tiger toy that his aunt had given him. The crowds were shocking to the little ten-year-old boy, but he was mesmerized by the view.

"Senajit!" called his mother from behind him, "Come inside now or I will banish you to the desert!" The woman walked back inside the apartment, but Senajit did not budge. His mother's threats of sending him to his death were old, and he no longer feared them.

What did make him nervous was the group of orange and blue men marching down the street and heading for the protestors. Who were they? What could such strange men want in India?

Roaring out loud to boast their strength, the orange men charged into the crowd, piercing the swarm of angry people like a stampede of bulls. Indians began flying out of the crowd, thrown to the ground or shoved into the air by the sheer brute force of the colorful men.

Pahalgam police attempted to fight back the strange men, but after seeing how the crowds began to clear the streets, they stepped back and let the brutal soldiers do their work.

Then things got messy.

A civilian ran out of a building and pulled a pistol. Taking a shot at an orange man and struck him in the face. Senajit closed his eyes in shock, but could hear a new level of screaming begin—this time, it came from the orange soldiers. As the Indian boy slowly re-opened his eyes, he watched the soldiers pull strange, bulky guns off of their blue backpacks and start shooting into the air. The crowds began an even more frantic run for their lives, but one of them lay dead on the road: the protestor who had shot the orange soldier in the face.

Policemen attempted to take control of the situation once again, but were easily suppressed by the orange soldiers.

The loud hum of motorcycle engines caught Senajit's attention. He dared to lift himself up and look down the street. Approaching the group of soldiers was a shiny metal motorcycle that had a sidecar attached to it. Two men rode the bike—obviously Americans—and were heavily armed. The orange soldiers took notice of the motorcycle and took defensive positions. The sidecar began firing the minigun attached to it, scattering the group of orange soldiers. The bike skid to a stop a couple dozen meters in front of the soldiers and the driver stepped off of it. He was a blond, bearded man who grabbed a long machinegun attached to the vehicle. After pulling a long ammo-belt out of a box on the bike, he opened fired on the soldiers. The sidecar passenger jumped out; he was bare-chested, except for a red sash, and he ran towards the orange men carrying only a sword.

Senajit sat up higher and bounced with anticipation. The brutal orange men were getting beaten back by a pair of American soldiers. Soon, all would be better.

Or so he thought.

Using their shields, the orange soldiers deflected the machingunner's assault, and blocked the swordsman. Having them outnumbered twenty-to-one certainly helped their defense. Before Senajit lost hope, however, a large African man wearing a baseball cap and a sleeveless white vest drove up on another silver bike with a soldier wearing green and red body armor in its sidecar. The large African man ran up to the first motorcycle, picked it up and hurled it through the air. It came crashing down in front of the group of orange soldiers, causing many of them to jump back. The large man then looked over to the green and red soldier, who adjusted a visor on his helmet and raised his strange-looking gun into firing position and pulled the trigger…

But nothing happened.

Senajit scratched his head. What was wrong with the colorful Joe's weapon? What did it shoot? Air? Looking back to the wreckage of the motorcycle, Senajit got his answer. Smoke began pouring from the gas tank and the orange troopers started to run away from it. Then the bike exploded in a burst of flame, knocking down over half of the orange soldiers. The Americans continued shooting at the remaining soldiers, and in less than a minute they had all been defeated.

As the police took away the last of the orange men, and the Indians began to trickle back into the streets, Senajit walked out of his home and nervously walked over to the Americans, who were cleaning up their mess and preparing to leave.

"Excuse me?" asked Senajit.

The blond American turned around and knelt down. "Hey there, little guy. Everything is okay, now. We're your friends."

"Yes. Thank you. Who are you?"

Smiling, the American stood back up. "We are the G.I. Joe team. My name is Rock 'n' Roll."

With his excitement overpowering his nervousness, Senajit pointed to the large African man. "And him?"

"He is Heavy Duty."

"And him?"

"That's Quick-Kick."

Senajit pointed to the last G.I. Joe and asked something slightly different. "May I meet him?"

Not expecting that question, Rock 'n' Roll was a tad startled, but then he smiled. "Sure. Flash, I think you've got a fan."

Flash set down the equipment he was carrying, dusted his hands and walked over to the boy. After kneeling down he smiled. "Why hello, there. Who are you?"

Nervousness swept through him again, but he managed to answer. "I am Senajit."

"Nice to meet you Senajit."

Flattered, the boy jumped to his next question, "Did you use a laser?"

Raising an eyebrow, Flash pulled his rifle from his backpack and held it in front of himself. "Yes I did. This is my laser-rifle."

"It is very…strong." said Senajit, unsure of what to call it in English. "When I am old enough, I want to use a laser like you."

Flash smiled. "I'm sure you'll do great." After standing up, he looked back down to Senajit. "Just promise me that you'll use it for good, okay?"

Nodding, the boy took a serious look on his face. "I promise."

As Senajit ran away, Flash looked over to Rock 'n' Roll with a serious look of his own. "And that's why we do what we do."

"Amen."

5.

"It looks as though the G.I. Joe team has won again." snarled Zartan as he hunched over a computer and stared at its screen. Having failed at his blackmail attempt against Destro, the Dreadnok Leader now studied mass amounts of information he found in the Cobra Temple's Computer Station. The Troop-Tracker computer displayed a map of the world filled with red dots, representing Cobra, and a growing number of green dots, representing the Joes.

"You're surprised?" joked Zarana, sister of the Dreadnok Leader. Zartan turned to look at her with a scowl on his face. He had been happy to have her help in digging up any new info to hold against Destro, but he was in no mood to listen to her sarcasm.

"Don't start with me, sister!"

"Oh, don't be pissy," she snapped as she munched on some potato chips, "Destro should have seen this coming. Whoever convinced him to increase the numbers of "Save the World" attacks is an idiot."

Zartan stood up straight and stretched his back. "Or bald. Look, Zarana, Cobra is weak now, and this could be our best chance ever to take power. Chrome-Dome has foolishly spread the forces thin, and now, _now _is when we should dispose of that tin-faced turkey!"

Setting the bag of chips down, Zarana looked at her brother, but her focus was on her own thoughts. "Our team _is_ here. If we made a direct strike on the temple, we could do it, but we'd need to bribe some troopers."

"You don't have enough money." Zartan and his sister turned in shock to see Destro's dark silhouette standing in the doorway to the Computer Station.

"D-Destro! I…I…" stuttered Zarana.

Stepping into the light of the room, the new Cobra Leader approached the Dreadnoks, but arrogantly kept his eyes focused on the room's computer screens. "It is true that my forces are spread dangerously thin, but do not for a second believe that I have not anticipated any sort of uprising by some sort of egotistical fool." Destro turned to look at the cowering Zartan. "Like you."

"Y-you are destroying the Cobra Organization." retaliated the Dreadnok Leader. "You are putting us all at risk!"

Destro frowned. "Watch your tongue, swamp-rat! I am following your stupid plan to the letter. Dr. Mindbender came to me yesterday and requested more forces and so I gave him more. Where is the wrong in that?"

Zartan clenched his fists. "You're just trying to accelerate our defeat. You know that Cobra troops are too aggressive. The countries that support us will accept our brutality only for so long." Pointing to the computer, Zartan snarled. "Look at the maps, Destro. The G.I. Joe team has come out in full force to stop our forces, and they haven't lost a single battle. When will it be our turn to begin winning again? It looks to me like you're throwing the battles. Why won't you accept our current strategy?"

Destro lunged forward and grabbed the Dreadnok Leader by the neck, causing Zartan's chest to flash red with anger. "You idiot! If the Joe team is out to stop us do you really think that we have a chance to defeat them?" Destro slammed the Dreadnok against the wall. "I am not as arrogant as your former Commander. I can recognize our weaknesses and am intelligent enough to turn them into strengths." Destro pointed at Zartan. "But that is not your concern. Your concern is to obey my commands. But I don't believe you have any interest in doing that any longer, no matter what price I pay you."

Destro walked back to the room's doorway and waved to someone in the hall. Turning back to Zartan, he grinned. "I've had enough of your disrespectful backtalk, and I think it's time you learned your place in the new Cobra Order." Moments later a squad of Iron Grenadiers marched in and surrounded Zartan.

"Take him to the dungeon." ordered Destro. "Give him the crudest cell you can find."

"Hey, you can't do that!" cried Zarana.

Destro turned to her and glared. "Quiet, wench, or you'll join your brother!"

Zarana frowned and stepped back. Zartan stood silent as the Grenadiers handcuffed him. As he left the room he took one last look at Destro. "Don't squeeze your grip too tight, Destro, because those you now hold in your hands are very sharp to the touch."

Now alone in the Computer Room, Destro looked at the map of the world, then roared out loud and shattered the monitor with his fist.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**Revelations**

"General Abernathy, welcome to _my_ office."

"Bartell." Hawk entered the office slowly with a slight look of annoyance—after all, he had hoped to never have to see this man's face again, and he certainly didn't feel welcome. The office was a small, cluttered room, smothered with every award, no matter how insignificant, that the senator had been handed in his life. _Doesn't this man know the meaning of humility?_ In stark contrast to Hawk's office, however, there were almost no photographs to look at; just a couple with Bartell standing next to some foreign leader who had a "Who the hell is this strange American?" look on their face. _Nice._

"I asked would you like any coffee, General?"

"Hmm? Oh, uh, sure. Just black."

Bartell pressed the intercom button on his desk and leaned over, "Jennifer, two coffees, one black, and one my way."

"Yes, Senator."

Bartell smiled. "Sure is nice having a secretary. Don't you have one?"

Hawk shook his head. "Nah. Had one for a while, but I figured I've got enough skill to do the job, so why not save the tax-payers a buck or two?"

Frowning, Bartell leaned back in his chair. "General Abernathy, what the hell do you think you are doing?"

Hawk hadn't prepared for that question. "Excuse me?"

"You've spread the G.I. Joe team across the world in some vain attempt to catch Cobra anywhere and everywhere they should show their faces, am I right?" Bartell sneered. "That looks to me like an act of desperation."

Hawk leaned forward and pounded his fist down. "What would you have me do? Sit on my hands locked in some immature bureaucracy like all you time-wasters in Washington? The G.I. Joe team has grown to an enormous size, and I intend to use my assets rather than just point fingers at which ones I don't think are working hard enough."

The secretary, Jennifer, walked in with the cups of coffee, but at seeing how the two men in the room were simply staring at each other, she quickly set down the mugs and scurried out the door.

Clenching his hands on the edge of his desk, Bartell fought the urge to take a swing at the general. "Whether you approve of my methods or not, General Abernathy, I assure you I speak for _your_ government when I demand that you change your tactics immediately! We are having a difficult time with this costly strategy of yours concerning spreading the Joe team across the globe. What if Cobra decides to use their nuke?"

Hawk sputtered a small laugh. "Senator, I've been fighting Cobra for over twenty-five years, and I can guarantee you that they are not planning to use that nuclear warhead, especially with Destro in command."

Lessening his grip on the desk, Bartell began to tap his fingers. "I sure hope you're right, General, for all of our sakes. But I have to demand that you start recalling your team. It's too many men, at far too high of a cost to the taxpayers."

Hawk frowned. "What kind of a moronic hypocrite are you? You come in here a week ago telling us to become assassins because Cobra is gaining too much support in the world. Now, after I start beating back that support you tell me we need to stop? What planet are you from?"

"I am from a planet that is so quick to jump from hating to supporting its criminals that it'll condemn its heroes for seeing past the deceptions of evil."

Hawk raised his eyebrows and took a second to cool off. "Deep words, Senator. Honestly, I didn't think you were capable."

Bartell gave an honest half-smile. "You don't become a United States Senator on good-looks alone. I know that I have been overbearing, but my intentions have been clean. I don't want you as an opponent, General Abernathy, but I need to know that you can follow orders. See it from my perspective. Cobra Commander finally stopped trying to conquer the world with brute force and was finding success. Then the best troops at my command disagreed with my strategy. It is a frightening idea."

Finally sipping the weak coffee, Hawk nodded. "Look, Bartell, I know that what Cobra is doing is tough to swallow, but look at it my way, too. A senator—that frankly my First Sergeant really hates—tells me to sniper Cobra Commander instead of using fair play. That's a lot to swallow in a very short amount of time."

"Okay, maybe the assassination was a little off-target, especially since the Joes didn't even get the shot, but it doesn't change the fact that your new tactic just won't work."

Hawk leaned forward, "But Senator Bartell, think about what it is doing to Cobra! If the United States of America can't afford a world-wide mission like this, then some little island nation of terrorists can't possibly foot the bill."

Sighing, the Senator took a sip of his coffee and looked back at the G.I. Joe Leader. "Okay, I'll give you three days. I'm not the only one getting itchy about the price, you know."

"Three days is just fine."

1.

Modern technology had its advantages. It was fast, slick, universal and fairly reliable. The problem was, when it crashed, it crashed _hard. _

Like today.

Duke stood in the Map Room of the PIT in almost complete darkness as Joe technicians frantically worked to restore the room's power. Was it a blown circuit? A broken power line? Nobody new for sure. The fact of the matter was that Duke needed his electronic map of the world up and running immediately, and his patience was wearing very, very thin.

"Mainframe, how much longer is this going to take? Should I step out for lunch?"

"No, sir. It won't take much longer. We've narrowed it down to—" Suddenly, the room's lights turned back on, and the map began filling with red and green dots again. "By Jove I think we've got it!"

Giving Mainframe only a nod of acknowledgement, Duke stepped closer to the large map and studied it. "Breaker, is the map working correctly? Why is there a loss marked for Paris?"

"Um…let me check." The Joe Communications Trooper started reading the information that once again poured across his computer-monitor's screen. "It appears that a group of Crimson Guardsmen had a shoot-out by the Eiffel Tower. Err…they are being treated as heroes by the French government, I'm afraid."

"What?" growled Duke. "Who the hell was assigned to Paris?"

"Uhhh…Lady Jaye, Beach Head, Leatherneck and Gung-Ho."

"A group of Joes with that much experience wouldn't be that sloppy. There has to be more to this story than meets the eye."

2.

Three hours ago:

Only the sounds of her boots tapping the marble floor echoed throughout the great cathedral. Its ghostly blue light seemed cold, but it was too awe-inspiring to condemn. Lady Jaye couldn't take her eyes off of the gothic beauty of Notre Dame, even with an annoying new sound stomping into the church.

"Nobody around here, LJ. _Burp._ Excuse me. I've walked around the perimeter and haven't seen a thing. Looks like—_burp_, excuse me again—that this was a wild goose chase."

Disgusted, Lady Jaye turned to scold her teammate Leatherneck, but gasped when she saw what he held in his hand. "A hot dog? You brought a hot dog into Notre Dame Cathedral? Have yee no decency?"

"Hey, I was hungry."

Lady Jaye grabbed him by the ear and pulled him towards the front doors. "And how the heck did you get a hot dog in Paris?"

"Ow! Ow! Ow! There was a guy down the street sellin' 'em. Let me go!"

Before the Joes reached the exit, a man-of-the-cloth walked up to them. "Are you done with your important work here?"

Lady Jaye quickly let go of Leathneck's ear and nervously smiled. "Yes, Father LaGuerre. Everything seems fine. I guess the tip we had about a possible Cobra attack was wrong. Thank you for your time."

The priest bowed, then frowned as he stood back up. "You brought a hot dog in here?"

Lady Jaye's face flushed red. "I'm sorry, Father, we were just leaving." She grabbed Leatherneck's arm, yanked him out of the cathedral and pulled him down the steps. "I canna believe you did that!"

Leathneck stuffed the hot dog in his mouth, then spoke as he chewed. "Me neither! Who'd a thought a guy could find a hot dog vender in Paris?"

Before she could scold him again, Lady Jaye's radio squawked. She quickly pulled it out and pressed the "Call" button. "Beach Head? Is that you? This is Lady Jaye, come in."

After a few moments, the radio squawked again. "Lady Jaye! This is Beach Head. We've got trouble. Get down to the _Parc de Champs de Mars_, quick! Cobra's—" With that, the radio went silent, and Lady Jaye couldn't get Beach Head back on the line.

"Okay, we've got to move!" ordered the Joe Covert Operations Trooper. She and Leatherneck ran over to their R.A.M. motorcycles, parked down the street and being watched by an unusually-friendly French policeman.

"Hey Lady Jaye!" called over Leatherneck as he pulled on his helmet.

"What?"

"How 'cum whenever we're in Europe you get that Irish accent back?"

"Just shut-up, okay?" As Leatherneck laughed, Lady Jaye rolled her eyes whispering to herself, "Flint, if it was your idea to send me to Paris with these guys, I'll kill ya."

The Joes jumped onto the R.A.M.s, waved _merci _to the policeman and took off for the Boulevard Saint German, the straightest shot they knew of to get to the _Parc de Champs de Mars_—home of _le Tour Eiffel._

3.

Beach Head dropped to one knee as multiple gunshots flew in his direction. Careful to precisely aim his pistol, the Joe Ranger fired back at the man in the tan trenchcoat who shook violently, then fell onto his back.

Running up behind him, Gung-Ho looked across the _Parc de Champs de Mars_ and squinted. "Do you see anymore?"

Beach Head stood up, pulled off his green ski mask and started tearing it into two long lengths. "No. But they're out there. We got shot at way too many times for it to be just the two people we've dropped so far."

"How's your arm?"

Beach Head looked at the blood oozing from the hole in his left bicep just above his elbow. "It hurts, but the bullet went through. I can still use it." He started wrapping the wound with the ski mask/bandage he had just made. Using his mouth, he tied a knot, then stood up, doing his best to hide his expressions of pain.

Screams started racing across the park from the Eiffel Tower. "I think we found 'em." said Gung-Ho. Nodding in agreement, Beach Head followed his teammate as they sprinted across the _Parc de Champs de Mars. _

Within fifty feet of the tower, the Joes could see a small group of well-armed and armored baddies aiming shooting their weapons at people around the Eiffel Tower. Those that didn't get shot were running from the scene with their arms in the air.

"Holy crap!" cursed Beach Head. "What the hell is going on here?"

As two more civilians fell to rampant gunfire, Gung-Ho holstered his pistol and pulled out his grenade-launcher. Beach Head did the same, except he pulled out his assault rifle.

But before the two Joes could open fire, some civilians ran towards the north side and threw off their long trenchcoats, revealing themselves to be Crimson Guardsmen in disguise. Whipping out Kalashnikov assault rifles, the Siegies fired at the armored attackers, taking them all down in less than a minute.

"I don't believe it!" gawked Gung-Ho.

"Never believe it when Cobra is involved." growled Beach Head as he pulled his teammate behind a car. "What is a bunch of Crimson Guardsmen doing around the Eiffel Tower right when a bunch of criminals decided to attack? This just doesn't feel right."

"Those Siegies still haven't seen us." pointed out Gung-Ho. "We could take 'em."

Watching the crowd swarm the Crimson Guardsmen, Beach Head shook his head. "Not a chance. Those scum balls just acted like heroes, and the people love 'em." After thinking for a few moments, the Joe Ranger looked back towards the tower and sneered. "But maybe we just need one of 'em."

4.

After about fifteen minutes, Crimson Guardsman Fred XXIV left the crowd of people and police now engulfing the base of the Eiffel Tower. It was an odd feeling to be surrounded by law enforcement—and be praised for being a part of Cobra.

_French people. Weird. _

But it fit in perfectly with Cobra Commander's "Save the World" scheme, which desperately needed a victory. Rumors were coming in that the police actions across the world were failing miserably because the G.I. Joe team was butting heads with Viper teams almost everywhere.

Even here. Thankfully those members of the French Mafia were stupid enough to take the money to attack the Eiffel Tower. The Siegies weren't exactly supposed to kill them, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Pulling a cell-phone out of his pocket, the Crimson Guardsman quickly dialed a number then cursed as he waited for the voice-mail message to finish its run. "Fred Thirty-Two, this is Twenty-Four. Where are you? Your squad needs to meet up with the rest of us by the Tower. Hurry up, we won't be here much longer!"

As he shoved the phone back in his pocket, Fred saw a dreamy-eyed Parisian-woman walk over to him, giddy with nervous giggles. "_Excuse moi, monsieur_, but could I 'ave your autograph, _si vous plait_?" She held out a pen and paper and smiled.

Fred looked at the attractive, short-haired brunette and smiled back. "I'd be happy to give it to you. Who should I make this out to?"

After handing him the pen and paper, the woman frowned. "Jaye, Lady Jaye."

Fred looked up, but before he could react, he was clubbed over the back of his head with the butt of Gung-Ho's grenade-launcher. Leatherneck caught him as he dropped down.

"Okay boys, _tres bien_." praised Lady Jaye. "Let's get this schmuck out of here."

Throwing the Siegie over his shoulder, Leatherneck smiled. "I didn't know that 'schmuck' was a French word."

Lady Jaye growled as she stared at the Joe Marine. _Somewhere on this planet, Flint is laughing his butt off, I can feel it. _

5.

Taking a hefty sniff of the dungeon air, Zartan started coughing. It was a crude, moldy odor that was too much to handle. It boggled the Dreadnok Leader's mind how rancid the Cobra Temple's prison had become, considering it wasn't even thirty years old. He started to understand why Destro was so angry about being locked up down here a few days ago. Perhaps the Commander should have shown a bit more mercy.

But that was the past.

Now Zartan was locked in a small, windowless brick cell, with really no hope of escape. He had been put into a far corner of the dungeon where there were no other prisoners to talk to, and no guards to heckle. Destro had proven that he could be just as cruel as the former leader of Cobra, that was for certain.

_I will never be loyal to that tin-headed tyrant. He has no concern for anyone but himself and that witch the Baroness. _thought Zartan. _It is only a matter of time before Zarana or Zandar comes to rescue me. Once I am free, my relations with Cobra are over, forever. Well, at least until Destro is dethroned. And if things keep going the way they are, that won't be very long._

Zartan sat upon his poor excuse for a bed and attempted to calm himself down by using a method of Zen meditation that he hadn't used in years; his concentration broke when sounds of gunfire and screaming echoed down the hallway.

Smiling, Zartan stood up and dusted himself off. "They got here faster than even I could have expected."

More gunshots and screaming filled the hall, but they were mixed with the sound of slashing metal and the ripping of fabric. The sounds stopped with the body of a Cobra Trooper falling in front of Zartan's cell; his helmet rolled off and spun itself out on the floor.

Confused, Zartan walked up to the bars and called out, "Zarana? Zandar? Who is out there? Buzzer?"

Wiping blood from his sword, Storm Shadow walked up to Zartan's cell door and stared at the Dreadnok Leader. Stumbling back in shock, Zartan could barely think of what to say. "St-Storm Shadow? Why are you here?"

The white ninja pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cell door, then slid it open. "I have been sent to rescue you," he coldly replied.

"R-rescue me?" stuttered Zartan. Attempting to regain his cocky stature, the Dreadnok Leader stepped out of the cell and grinned. The number of slaughtered Cobra Troopers in the hallway was horrible, but he would not let Storm Shadow know how he felt. "Who sent you? My siblings? Some other Dreadnoks?"

The ninja slowly sheathed his katana and pushed Zartan down the hall. "Your Commander did."

"Who?"

6.

"Wake him up."

Following Lady Jaye's order, Leatherneck dumped a cup of cold water over Fred XXIV's head. The Siegie shook his head back and forth and cursed. As water droplets slid off his locks of blond hair, Fred looked around the room he was in. It was a small Parisian hotel room nowhere near the _Champs-Elysees_. It was a dump, and twice as old as the Crimson Guardsman was.

"You know, there are nicer hotels along the Seine."

"Shut up." growled Leatherneck. "We ain't here to make you comfy."

Lady Jaye pulled the Joe Marine back and crossed her arms. "What can you tell us about Cobra's 'Save the World' plan? What are ya tryin' to achieve?"

Fred smiled. "I think it's a bit obvious, 'G.I. Jaye'. We're showing the world that Cobra has changed its focus, and is now a law-enforcement agency, not a terrorist organization."

"Yeah, and me _mere_'s a gator wrestler." sassed Gung-Ho.

"I thought she was." joked Leatherneck.

"Stop." warned Lady Jaye.

Beach Head walked up to Fred. "The Joe team catches a lot of you guys, and so we're pretty good at breaking you, too. If you want to try to resist us, go ahead, but you won't succeed. The Siegie David Carbo tried to resist Snake Eyes last year. He broke in twenty-three minutes." Beach Head cracked his knuckles. "I'm gonna beat that record."

Fred closed his eyes and turned his head away. "I know where Cobra Commander is!"

7.

Sitting in his new, larger and much more comfortable chair, Destro slumped to his right side and looked across the room. The leaders of Cobra sat around the table, bickering with each other, spewing blames and insults at one another as they tried to justify why they were not the ones responsible for the failure of the "Save the World" scheme. It was an absurd thing to watch, and, Destro had to admit, something he had never seen when Cobra was under the control of the hissing buffoon. Perhaps, just perhaps, Cobra Commander was a better leader than Destro had credited him.

Sitting up, Destro pounded his fist upon the table and yelled, "Enough!" The bickering quickly came to an end. Dr. Mindbender, Tomax, Xamot, Major Bludd and the Baroness gave their heavy-breathing-attention to their new leader.

"What do you wish to say, Lord Destro?" asked the Baroness.

Destro stood up, put his hands behind his back and began strolling around the table. "This is ludicrous! Is this progress? Is this the new Cobra Order you all insisted that I become a part of? You are all a bunch of spoiled children fighting over toys in the sandbox."

"How dare you!" growled Major Bludd.

"Silence!" barked Destro. "I have done exactly what you all wanted. I followed the Commander's 'Save the World' scheme to the letter. And what has it achieved for us? Our armies are pulverized. Our money is gone. And now you are at each others' throats trying to say that you had no part in this."

"That reminds me," interrupted Dr. Mindbender, "Where is Zartan? No one has seen him since yesterday."

Destro sat back down in his chair and twiddled his fingers on the table. "Zartan is a fool. We no longer need his assistance."

"Who are you to say such a—"

"We no longer need his assistance!" roared the Cobra Leader. Leaning forward, Destro intertwined his fingers. "From now on, we are going to run Cobra how I see fit to run it. This is not a democracy or a parliament. If you do not wish to follow my commands, then I suggest you leave at once."

After a few moments of silence, the table cleared of every high-ranking member of the Cobra Terrorist Organization, except for Destro—and the Baroness.

"I don't think you handled that well."

Destro looked over to the Baroness and frowned. "If it means that Cobra is finally mine to control, then I handled it perfectly."

The Baroness adjusted her glasses, stood up and walked over to her lover. "There is no Cobra _left_ foryou to control, James."

To his surprise, Destro laughed. "I find myself respecting the Commander more and more every day that I run this corrupt circus. He was a better manipulator than I."

Baroness sat on her lover's lap and stroked his chin. "I feel it is time to finally tell you, my dear: he hasn't _stopped_ manipulating you."

Leaning back, the new Cobra Leader raised an eyebrow. "You mean with this ridiculous scheme of his? It doesn't matter anymore. I'm ending it, now."

Baroness shook her head. "No, my love. You don't understand. He has never lost control of Cobra, because he never died."

Destro slowly pushed the Baroness off of his lap and stood up. "Watch what are you saying, woman, for you are playing with fire!"

"I speak only the truth to you, James. Once I re-joined the ranks of Cobra, the Crimson Twins, Tomax and Xamot, told me of the Commander's plan to fake his own murder."

Destro held his chin and walked over to the monitor-station on the far side of the room. "But…why? What could the Commander hope to achieve by playing out an extravagant assassination?"

The Baroness gulped, because she knew the answer would ignite an explosion in her lover.

8.

Frozen with shock, the Joes in the room could only stare at each other.

"What did you say?" asked Gung-Ho.

Fred nervously fought back stutters, "I-I kn-know where C-Cobra Commander is, b-because I was on guard duty at the New York branch of Extensive Enterprises a few days ago, the d-day that the C-Commander was killed."

Lady Jaye lifted his chin. "What did you see?"

After a deep breath, Fred continued, "The Commander was rushed into the building, and I was o-ordered to guard him as he made his way up to the twins' office, along with three other Siegies. Once there, we stood guard outside of the office, b-but there was enough yelling going on inside that the four of us could pick up quite a bit of what was g-going on."

Leatherneck stepped closer to Fred. "What did you hear?"

"They…they were talking about the nuclear weapon. Cobra Commander insisted on going to see it, but the twins didn't want him to. But, heh, you know him, he won out in the end. He told them to send him to…uh…Banja Luka. I, uh, I don't know where that is."

"It's a city in Bosnia-Herzegovina." said Beach Head.

"Yeah, well, that's where he's going, and that's where the nuke is, too. Do I get to go now?"

Lady Jaye walked over to the room's phone and began dialing. "Not exactly. But I'm pretty sure we will."

9.

"_What?_"

"You shouldn't scream, Destro, you know it's bad for your heart."

Breathing heavier, Destro charged over to the Baroness and grabbed her by her shoulders. "I am in no mood for levity!" Inhaling deeply, the new Cobra Leader pushed her aside and walked across the room, then slumped down into his extravagant chair. "The Commander has always been a buffoon. How could he possibly have become such a strategic genius in so short a time?"

With her heels clicking on the floor, the Baroness strode over to Destro and sat down upon the table's edge. "Because he finally followed the one strategy that he has always ignored, all of these years."

Destro looked up to his lover with a sad look in his eyes. "What could that be?"

Smiling, the Baroness replied, "He asked for help."

With a hefty sigh, Destro nodded. "It makes sense. Tomax and Xamot are very cunning men. But to throw the authorities off of his trail by faking his own death…even I would not have tried that. Still, it gave him the time he needed to secretly work on prepping the nuclear bomb."

Twisting Destro's necklace in her hand, Baroness smiled. "The question now is, what are you going to do about it? The bomb isn't where you thought it was. The Commander took it to Bosnia, a country that now supports Cobra. How are you going to get the bomb back without causing a major international incident?"

Standing up, Destro walked over to the room's main monitor and looked at the map on the screen. "If there is an incident, the Commander brought it upon himself. As Cobra's new leader, it is my job to secure the prosperity of this organization, and if some madman is threatening our future existence, then he must be dealt with post haste."

Spinning around, Destro charged towards the room's exit. Stepping in front of him, the Baroness placed her hand upon his chest. "But my dear, many of your men are still loyal to him. How can you expect them attack him?"

Destro reached into his pocket and pulled out a money clip. "This is what his men are truly loyal too. When I ask them to fight for this, they will."

As the new Cobra Leader left the room, the Baroness adjusted her glasses and frowned. "I hope you're right, my dear. I hope you're right."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

**Mobilization**

Once he found a napkin on his desk, Hawk frantically began wiping hot coffee off of himself. But that wasn't important.

"Can you repeat that?

"Sorry, Hawk, I should have waited until you had swallowed your coffee," said Lady Jaye with a bit of red on her face.

"It'll wash. Now tell me what I think you said," insisted the General as he set down his mug and paid more attention to the satellite monitor that connected the PIT to Lady Jaye's hotel room in Paris.

Nodding, Lady Jaye couldn't help but smile. "Okay. A Crimson Guardsman told us that Cobra Commander is alive and well, and hiding in Banja Luka, Bosnia."

Hawk frowned and turned away from the monitor. "We don't have anybody in that area, do we, Duke?"

As the First Sergeant patted spit coffee off of his uniform, he answered, "Not at the moment, sir, but I'd be happy to check it out."

Smiling, Hawk nodded. "I knew you'd say that. Take a 'Skystriker Express' to Bosnia and assume command. I'll get you some troops."

"Yes, sir." Duke jogged out of the Communications Room, intent on grabbing a fresh uniform before he headed to the airfield.

Hawk put his hands on his hips and sighed. "It makes me nervous to abandon Paris, but if we have a lead on the Commander's whereabouts, we have to take it. And I should give the job to you guys."

"Whatever you feel is best, General," said Lady Jaye with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"This mission feels dangerous. I'm going to be on the safe side, so I'm sending Scarlett's team to help you out. Meet them in Sarajevo."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't wait for Duke. He'll find you."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, General."

After Lady Jaye disappeared from the screen, Hawk walked over to Breaker. "I don't like the feel of this."

"How so?"

"Those Siegies won just a little too easily. Beach Head was dead-on when he questioned why they were in 'the right place at the right time'."

"So these police-actions are set-ups?" asked Mainframe.

"Some of them must be." Hawk looked back at the map. "And why did that Guardsman break so fast? Beach Head didn't even touch him. The 'Fred' series of Siegies are generally considered to be the cream-of-the-crop, and this guy was a complete wimp."

"They're tricking us?" pondered Breaker.

Hawk nodded. "I'm willing to bet my jet-suit on it. We've got a couple of things to do. First, we'll do Senator Bartell a favor and call home some of the teams that haven't seen any activity. Second, we'll reform those teams into one big heavy-strike team and head to Europe. If the girls really do find the Commander, we need to give 'em a hand." The General looked over to Mainframe. "Get me the rosters. I want to know who's already in Europe and Northern Africa."

"Right away."

Hawk patted Breaker on the shoulder. "Looks like you boys have been promoted to senior-strategists tonight."

The Communications Trooper smiled. "I'll do my best, General."

"That's all I'm asking."

1.

In his chambers, Destro frantically packed his personal gear, feeling a flush of emotions that he hadn't felt in years.

_So, the Commander wasn't killed in New York after all. I shouldn't have trusted those buffoon Eels. I learned long ago that you really can only trust yourself._

After throwing a facemask-sander into his luggage, Destro jumped in surprise as he heard gunshots fire in the hallway outside of his chambers; his personal guard's bloody body was sent crashing through the room's door.

"What the--? Who dares to assault me?" bellowed Destro as he clamped on his rocket-gauntlets and pointed his right arm at the doorway.

Entwined by the smoke of the .357 Magnum he was carrying, Gutters entered the room with a strange smile on his face and a twittering eye.

Destro leaned forward in surprise, but did not lower his aim. "Gutters? Is that you?"

"I have come for my money."

Tapping his facemask in a rapid sequence, Destro chuckled. "Ah, yes. The reward for killing Cobra Commander. I must compliment you on a job well done. I heard about what happened to Rekowsky. What a ridiculous end to a talented man's career."

Gutters' eye began to twitter even faster. "But I didn't fail. I…I killed the Commander! I deserve the money!"

Destro faked a smile. "That you do. But I have a few questions to ask. First and foremost, why did you kill my guard, and why are you now pointing a gun at me?"

Looking down at the Magnum, Gutters bit his lip and lowered the pistol. "He wouldn't let me in, and I…I was afraid you wouldn't see me."

"Such little faith. We have a contract, after all." Destro lowered his arm and walked over to his liquor bar. "The two officers that you were supposed to meet up with in New York were found dead. Did you know about that?"

Sweat trickled down Gutters' brow. "N-no. I hadn't heard."

"That's strange, since you were supposed to meet up with them after the assassination. And ironically, they were shot with the same caliber of bullets that come from the very gun you brought with you today. A .357 Magnum, am I correct?"

Gutters swung the pistol behind his back. "I…I…"

"But do you know the real kicker?" Destro turned around and aimed his rockets once again. "I've just learned that Cobra Commander isn't even dead! So apparently you have been scamming me on a whole handful of fronts! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now!"

"L-lord Destro…p-please!" cried Gutters as he dropped his pistol and took a step back.

"I don't forgive breeches of contract." With that, Destro zapped a small red rocket across the room, which pierced Gutters' chest and carried him back five feet before it finally exploded.

Destro walked past blood dripping from the ceiling and a squad of Iron Grenadiers ran into the room from the hallway. "My Lord! We received your distress call sequence. Are you all right?"

"I am fine. I want this mess cleaned up by the time I return."

2.

Seven hours later:

"Get the hell outta here!"

An old Italian woman walking down the street looked up to see a lightly-armed American soldier run at her frantically waving his arms. "_Allontanatevi da me, ti mostro!_" screamed the woman as she beat the soldier back with her walking stick.

Enduring the hits, the American picked up the shrieking woman, carried her off of the sidewalk and shoved her into a nearby restaurant. As soon as the door shut behind them, a series of explosions rained across the road, blasting chunks of asphalt, shattering windows and setting off car alarms up and down the city block.

Cursing, the American soldier looked out the restaurant's window and pressed "Call" on his radio. The Italians in the room cried in fear and scattered out of the back exit. "Scarlett, this is Hit & Run. I'm trapped on Via Annia, about five-hundred feet south of the Coliseum. Over."

The radio scrambled, then Scarlett replied, "We're on the way. ETA five minutes. Over."

"Roger. Over." Cursing again, Hit & Run slowly looked out the window. Slithering behind the flames of the burning cars, Hit & Run could see a squad of Frag-Vipers take cover and no-doubt re-load their grenade throwers. Tapping his M-4 carbine against his helmet, Hit & Run closed his eyes and tried to think of a way to delay the Cobras for five more minutes.

It didn't matter. Bullets started piercing the restaurant's wall and shattered very valuable pieces of pottery and china across the room. Hit & Run dropped to the floor just as a grenade obliterated the Via Annia street window. The Joe looked across the floor as shards of glass and spaghetti rained down upon him; he could see a small Italian boy quivering under a table.

Cursing, Hit & Run growled out, "This is why I like open fields a lot better." The Joe stood up and fired his carbine out of the crumbling hole in the wall, then ran over to the boy, picked him up and ran for the back of the restaurant. Behind him, more bullets poured in, and a cluster of explosions pushed him out of the back door and onto his face in the alley.

Coughing, the Joe Light Infantryman rose up onto his hands and knees. Looking down the alley, he watched the Italian boy run away crying. Stumbling over to his rifle, Hit & Run turned around and cringed at the view of the flames pouring out of the building.

"There he is!" A trio of Frag-Vipers grouped at the alley's end and loaded their grenade throwers. Attempting to aim his M-4 carbine, Hit & Run cringed in pain and dropped the gun. He looked at his left arm to see that it had a bullet-hole in it along with a couple of very large shards of glass.

Turning around, the Joe ran as fast as he could away from the Vipers, but it was to no avail; they began hurling grenades down the alley, with two exploding behind him, and one blasting apart a pile of crates right in front of him. Knocked backwards, Hit & Run hit his head on a wall's pipe and slid to the ground.

Before he slipped into unconsciousness, he saw a black shadow leap across him, carrying a long, shiny piece of silver at its side…

3.

Blinking back into consciousness, Hit & Run looked up a groaned. Scarlett smiled and pet his hair. "You better not let Snake Eyes here you moan like that. He likes the way I look. And besides, he just saved your butt down in that alley."

"So you guys took out the Frag-Vipers?"

Scarlett nodded. "Yeah. Good job finding them."

"Well, when I saw those crooks heading for that armored truck, I figured Cobra might see 'em too, ya know?"

"Well, don't worry. The crooks are caught, and the snakes are on their way back to the States."

Sitting up, Hit & Run buckled with pain and grabbed his arm. Scarlett pushed him back down. "You need some rest." she warned. "You've been beat up pretty bad the last few days, and you're only going to get a few more minutes to rest."

Hit & Run fowned. "Why, where are we?"

"We've been re-assigned to Bosnia-Herzegovina."

"Bosnia? Why in the world do we need to go there?"

Scarlett leaned away from her teammate and looked out of a small window. "Because there's a chance that Cobra Commander's hiding there."

Hit & Run had to sit up. "Serious? So he really did fake it? Wow."

Then it dawned on him.

"Oh my god, we're in a plane, aren't we?"

Smiling, Scarlett stood up and walked towards the small room's door. "Yep. We had to charter a plane from Rome, and let me tell you, it wasn't easy. Or cheap. We'll be landing in about thirty-five minutes. You're under orders to get some rest."

Saluting with his good arm, Hit & Run replied, "Yes, sir!"

Scarlett left the room and the Joe Light Infantryman laid back down. _I've gotta work on not getting hurt anymore. This is getting stupid! _

4.

Sarajevo International Airport was surprisingly busy. The gray, rectangular building was bustling with activity, but Lady Jaye noticed that the majority of airplane passengers were _leaving _the airport instead of _coming _to it.

_Maybe the Commander is responsible for this…_

Naturally, the Marines in her squad insisted on stopping for a meal. Leatherneck and Gung-Ho were great soldiers, _but damn it all, they eat like pigs!_

Leatherneck walked over to Lady Jaye's table carrying a plate of food, munching some of it quite intensely. "Hey, L-J, you ever try this Bosnian food? Try these beef-kebabs of theirs. They call 'em _cevapcici._ Not bad with some sour cream." The Marine shoved a kebab in her face, but Lady Jaye pushed it away.

"I'm not hungry. Aren't you guys done eating yet?"

Gung-Ho picked up three of the large kebabs off of the plate and began smothering them with sour cream. "We just started. The lines at the food vendors were _beaucoup_ long. There's a lot of people here today."

"This really pisses me off!" The Joes looked up to see Beach Head walk over to their table and slam his tray of food down. "I'd pay anyone here fifty bucks for an American burger."

"_Cevapcici_ is kinda close," said Gung-Ho as he shoved an entire one in his mouth.

"What the heck is that stuff?" asked Leatherneck, with a mouth full of food as well.

"Yeah, it looks kinda good." said Lady Jaye, finally feeling the pangs of hunger.

Beach Head slid her the tray. "It's called _japrak, _and I thought it was lamb and grapes. But no, it's grape _leaves _stuffed with lamb! Yuck! I don't eat leaves. You can have it."

"Thanks!"

"Looks like it came with mashed potatoes. That's good." commented Leatherneck.

"Oh, yeah. I'll eat those. Save those for me."

Lady Jaye swallowed her bite of _japrak_ and shook her head. "No go, guys. It looks like our teammates 'ave finally arrived." She pointed towards a Lockheed jet landing on the runway outside.

"A charter flight?" asked Leatherneck.

Lady Jaye nodded. "Yes. The next passenger flight out of Rome for Sarajevo wasn't leaving 'til tomorrow." She picked up her bag and frowned. "Lunchtime's over, boys, and it was just starting to look good!"

Beach Head snorted. "That's up for debate."

5.

"Commander Destro, we are approaching the Mediterranean Sea, via the Rock of Gibraltar."

The new Cobra Leader set down the copy of "War and Peace" he was reading and looked out of the Snake's Head cargo plane's window. All that was visible was a sea of dark clouds, spattered with flashes of lightning. Looking to the Cobra Officer reporting to him, Destro yawned, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, sir. We'll be entering Bosnian airspace in less than four hours."

"Thank you officer. You may leave me."

Bowing, the Cobra Officer hurried back to the cockpit.

Sipping his tea, Destro gazed across the dark clouds. _Should I have left Cobra Island under the Baroness' control? Will it be the same when I return?_

They were discomforting questions. But the new Cobra Leader felt that he personally had to ensure the destruction of the old one. Destro stood up and adjusted his uniform, then walked towards the rear of the plane's passenger section. After reaching the back door, he stepped through and was nearly deafened by the escalation of sound echoing through the cargo section. H.I.S.S. tanks and Stinger jeeps filled the cargo hold, as well as a pair of A.G.P. flight pods and Destro's own Despoiler hoverjet.

An Iron Grenadier Officer walked up to Destro and saluted. "My lord, everything is in optimum condition for our strike against Cobra Commander."

"Excellent. Contact the other two planes and make sure everything is ready for them as well."

"At once, my lord."

Destro looked at the vehicles and men that filled the black and red cargo plane, and almost felt a touch of pride. These were men that he handpicked for this mission—both Iron Grenadiers and Cobra Vipers. If the Baroness' warnings were true—and they usually were—capturing the rogue Commander was going to take a lot of trust. And money.

6.

Leatherneck slid the van's door shut, and the Joe team looked at Lady Jaye sitting in the passenger seat; she was speaking German to a strange fat man in the driver's seat. Crammed into the large gray van with their luggage and bootleg weapones, the Joes were anxious to make progress on their trip across Bosnia-Herzegovina. But Scarlett wanted the trip completely _incognito_, so Lady Jaye had to find an arms dealer willing to sell weapons to the Joes, as well as drive them from Sarajevo to Banja Luka. It wasn't hard to find an arms dealer; but it was very doubtful that he was an honest one.

Lady Jaye handed the driver a short stack of American bills, which he quickly counted, then pocketed. As the fat man started the van, Lady Jaye turned back to the crunched group of Joes, many of whom were analyzing the weapons that the dealer had provided for them. "Okay, he'll take us to Banja Luka, but only to the southside o' town. He says there are new dangers in the city, and so 'e won't go north."

"That's interesting." said Scarlett. "I guess we'll check the north side of town first."

"Hey Scarlett," griped Beach Head, "These weapons suck." Snake Eyes reached forward from the back seat and smacked the Joe Ranger in the back of the head. "Hey! Well, they do! Look: the clip on my Kalashnikov rifle won't lock. How am I supposed to use it?"

Gung-Ho handed him a reel of duct-tape. "You'd be surprised how many times this stuff has saved my butt."

"You've gotta be kidding."

"Look guys, I know these weapons aren't up to American Army standards, but we had to sneak into this country without our weapons." Scarlett nodded to the back seat. "How do you think Snake Eyes feels? He couldn't bring his sword! That blade is his life! We're just going to make do with what we have. If the Head Snake really is near Banja Luka, I'm sure there are some Cobra weapons that we can confiscate and use instead of these."

Beach Head rolled his eyes. "Gee, that would be an improvement."

"Zip it."

The driver patted Lady Jaye on the shoulder and pointed out of the front window. "_Jemand kommt!"_

The Joe Covert Operations Trooper tapped the roof of the van and called out, "Someone is coming, guys. It looks like an Army jeep. Get the weapons out of site!"

Quickly stuffing the well-used guns under their seats, the Joes attempted to make the inside of the van look as normal as possible. The Bosnian Army jeep turned to block the road and Bosnian soldiers jumped off of it. Marching towards the van, they held their weapons at the ready.

"Well, this sucks." groaned Shockwave.

"We'll get out of this, don't worry." said Scarlett.

After speaking to the driver in Serbian, the Bosnian sergeant shone a flashlight into the van, then gasped. "Americans! Why are you here?" His English was slow, but he knew his words.

Being the better diplomat, Lady Jaye caught the question, "We are businessmen from New York City. We want to invest money in Banja Luka."

With a heavy look of doubt across his face, the sergeant pointed the flashlight at Beach Head and Gung-Ho, who hadn't shaven for days. "You do not look like businessmen. I say you are bounty hunters, here to kill the Snake."

After looking at each other, the Joes looked back at the sergeant and leaned closer. Scarlett spoke up, "What if we told you we were American soldiers, sent here on a special mission to find the Snake and bring him to justice?"

The Bosnian soldier looked at the Joes one more time, then stepped back from the van's window. He then yelled something in Serbian to the jeep, which was then driven off the side of the road.

He leaned back into the window and stared at the Joe team with a very stern face. "Just because a government approves of Cobra does not mean its people approves of Cobra. Remember, if you fail, I will find you. Good luck, Americans!" He slapped the van's side, and the driver started it back up. He drove on down the road, past the Bosnian soldiers who surprisingly waved to the Joes as they passed them.

"Well I'll be damned." said Leatherneck.

"That was lucky." said Beach Head.

Scarlett turned to look at the team. "That wasn't luck, boys, that was desperation. Whatever Cobra Commander is doing in Banja Luka is over this army's head, and they're obviously desperate for help."

"So what should we do?" asked Hit & Run.

Scarlett sighed. "We continue on as planned, but we prepare ourselves for the worst."

Snake Eyes looked out of the van's rear-seat window, taking notice that their van was the only vehicle heading north—looking extremely lopsided against the stream of cars and trucks taking the highway southeast to Sarajevo.

7.

Running out of the Motor Pool garage, General Hawk turned towards the helipad and grabbed onto his hat. The wind gusts blasting out from the sides of the twin-rotor Tomahawk helicopter were overwhelming, reducing the general's run to a brisk walk.

But he was determined to reach the helicopter as it landed outside of the PIT, as were the two other Joes standing at the sides of the Helipad: Doc and Lifeline. If those two were around, the large Joe chopper wasn't here for a refueling—someone was coming in wounded.

In this case, there were multiple casualties being delivered.

As the Tomahawk settled to the ground, Doc began un-strapping the body hooked to the helicopter's right side. "Well, Short-Fuze, it looks like you're going to be spending some time with me." Lifeline pushed up a gurney and the two doctors quickly wheeled the injured Mortar Soldier away.

Hawk ran to the other side of the Tomahawk, whose rotors were just starting to die down, and began un-strapping Pathfinder. The helicopter's pilot, Lift-Ticket, jumped down from the aircraft and wheeled over another gurney set at the helipad's side. After Hawk and Lift-Ticket moved Pathfinder, Doc and Lifeline began moving the injured Joes that were sitting in the Tomahawk's seats. Lift-Ticket went over to help, but Hawk had to stop him and ask a few questions first.

"Lift-Ticket, were there any deaths?"

As Airborne stumbled down from the helicopter, Lift-Ticket shook his head. "No, sir. Everyone here is still alive, but they are in pretty bad shape."

"And this was the team set up in Boston?"

"Ohhhh…" groaned the last Joe in the chopper. Looking over, Hawk watched Doc help Shipwreck down.

"Shipwreck, are you okay?" asked Hawk.

"Nothing that a bottle of rum won't fix."

Hawk held on to the Joe Sailor. "I'll get you some right away, but you have to talk to me, first. What happened to you guys? You had reported that the harbor was secure."

Holding onto his head, Shipwreck growled, "Well, it was! We hadn't seen a length of snakeskin since we took our posts two days ago. But then someone reported the bombing of a yacht down in Quincy Bay. So we go down there in the W.H.A.L.E., and whaddya know? Cobra's chasing after a bunch of ski boats with some Piranhas. We give 'em chase, but then BOOM! A ski boat explodes! We zoom in on the Piranhas and open fire, but they shoot back at us. BOOM! There goes a yacht passing by. Then we get too close, and BOOM! They blew us clear to Davy Jones' locker."

Confused, Hawk asks, "How did the W.H.A.L.E. get destroyed? How many Piranhas were there?"

"Two."

Even more confused, Hawk took a moment to gather his wits as Shipwreck was laid down on a gurney by Doc and Lifeline. "You're telling me a Piranha destroyed a hovercraft?"

Waving his hand and shaking his delirious head, Shipwreck replied, "No, no, no! The Piranhas didn't do anything! It was the guy on the docks, shooting the Matrix Cannon!"

"_What?"_

Doc could see the anxiety skyrocketing in Hawk's eyes. "General, I'm sorry, but I need to take care of these injured men."

"Doc, this is too important to ignore."

"I know, Hawk, which is why I'll get Shipwreck back on his feet as soon as I can. I need to make sure that he's going to make it through the day, first, okay?"

Nervously, Hawk consented. "Okay, Doc, you win. But I need to talk to these men, A.S.A.P."

"Understood, General."

As Hawk watched the injured enter the PIT, Mainframe walked out to him. "Hey, General Hawk? I need to talk to you."

"Now's not a good time, Mainframe."

"It is important, sir. It seems that Cobra is pulling out of cities all over the world."

Hawk turned and frowned. "What?"

"Teams all across the globe are reporting that Cobra teams are packing up and abandoning their 'Save the World' programs."

The General walked up to Mainframe, put his arm around him and escorted him back towards the Motor Pool. "This is bad."

Raising both eyebrows, Mainframe leaned away. "Bad? Isn't this what we wanted?"

"Yes and no. While it's great that Cobra will no longer be messing with law enforcement, it also means that they are moving on to step two of their grand scheme."

Mainframe thought for a moment. "The nuclear weapon?"

Nodding, Hawk opened the Motor Pool's door and ushered Mainframe through. "Exactly. We need everyone back immediately. Work with Breaker and Dial-Tone on getting a-hold of squads in North and South America, first. I want a heavy strike team, sooner than possible."

"Yes, sir, General Hawk."

As Mainframe ran off, Hawk took a deep breath. Never before had the G.I. Joe team faced a danger of such magnitude. Thousands, perhaps millions of people's lives depended on whether or not Duke's team could find Cobra Commander in Banja Luka and defeat him before he used the nuclear weapon. And now, if Shipwreck was right, Duke would have to face the challenge of the Matrix Cannon once again.

Was victory even feasible anymore?


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**Multiple Fronts**

Leatherneck rammed his elbow into Gung-Ho's side and growled, "Move over, Cajun! Give me some room!"

Shoving back, Gung-Ho snarled, "You think I have any room to spare, Twinkletoes?"

Wrapping an arm around his fellow Marine's neck, Leatherneck prepared to slug him in the face. "You will after I crush your ugly mug!" But before Leatherneck could swing his arm, a black-gloved hand thrust in-between the two Marines and held itself rock-steady. The feuding Joes looked back to see Snake Eyes staring at them as he held his hand between their faces. Sighing, Leatherneck and Gung-Ho stopped quarreling and looked away from each other.

Scarlett turned around from watching the immature little spat and leaned towards Lady Jaye in the front seat. "I think the guys are getting a bit claustrophobic after sitting in here for two hours, and I can't say I blame them."

Lady Jaye nodded. "This twisty-turny road is making me car-sick, an' I've got the best seat!"

"I'm also nervous about how dark it's getting. We still haven't made contact with Duke and the sunset's just about over."

"I don't think you have to worry about that any longer, Scarlett." The Joe Counter-Intelligence Trooper looked to Shockwave, who was leaning out of the van's window and pointing to the sky. Squirming across the S.W.A.T. Trooper's lap, Scarlett ignored the gasps coming from the other men and looked out of the window.

A pair of white jet fighters thundered across the dark-gray sky, heading in the direction of Banja Luka. Scarlett leaned back and turned towards the Joes in the van. "Who's got binoculars?"

"I do." Hit & Run handed her a small pair from his duffel bag.

As she grabbed the lenses, Scarlett ordered Lady Jaye, "Tell the driver to stop the van."

The dented gray vehicle screeched to a stop and its side door slid open. Scarlett hopped out and again looked up to the sky. As the other Joes anxiously exited the van, Gung-Ho asked, "What do you see up there, Red?"

Smiling, Scarlett replied, "Those were Skystrikers. And something, or more likely some_one _was dropped from each plane. There! Look!" She pointed northeast, and the team members looked up, then cheered as parachutes popped open and began drifting down towards the van's location.

"Oh, great," grumbled Leatherneck, "Now we've got more people to try to cram into this crummy ol' heap."

"Zip it," warned Lady Jaye. "If Duke is coming to help us, I'm all for it."

High above the Joe team, the two Skystrikers swung around and rocketed their ways northwest, no doubt heading for a U.S. army base in Germany.

Swooping across the trees, the first of the parachuting Joes landed along the road and began stuffing his 'chute into a duffel bag that he brought with him. Scarlett and Hit & Run were the first to reach him, and instantly recognized their teammate when he removed his flight helmet.

"Duke!" called out Scarlett, "You made it!"

The First Sergeant looked over to the Joes and smiled, "Scarlett, H&R, good to see you guys. Let's save the small until after we get back on the move."

Gung-Ho ran up and pointed at the second parachute approaching the ground—in a rather sporadic pattern. "Uh, Duke? Who exactly did you bring with you?"

Without having to wait for Duke to speak, Gung-Ho knew his answer. The skydiver touched town and stumbled forward, then tripped over a rock and fell flat on his face.

"Oh. Tripwire."

Frowning, Duke glared at Gung-Ho. "All right, tough-guy, get over there and help him put away his gear!" Pointing at himself, Gung-Ho was about to say something, but Duke cut him off. "That's right, you! Move!"

Saluting, the Joe Marine stood at attention. "Yes, sir!" He then jogged over to help Tripwire find his way out from beneath the giant parachute.

Leading Duke back to the van, Scarlett filled the First Sergeant in on her team's current situation. "…so we're not sure where the Commander is, but that's our best guess."

Duke nodded. "It sounds logical to me. Unfortunately for us, satellite surveillance reports that Destro has crossed the Dipanic Alps with a huge strike force. It looks like he's got a pretty good idea about where the Commander is, too." He froze in his tracks and looked at the gray van. "What the--?"

Blushing, Scarlett tipped her head forward onto her hand. "This is our transportation. It's an eleven-seater, but with all the gear we're carrying, it's a snug little ride."

Shaking his head, Duke looked at Scarlett and smiled. "No worries. Let's just get moving. As they approached the vehicle, the team waved their greetings to the new mission leader.

"Good to see you, Duke."

"Thanks, Beach Head. Glad I could come."

"No, no, watch your step! Aww, dangit!" Duke turned to see Gung-Ho helping Tripwire up off of the ground. The Joe Marine looked at the First Sergeant with a frustrated expression. "Sorry, sir, we've had a few…missteps."

Duke frowned, "Well, you could have helped him carry some of his gear, or hadn't you thought of that?"

Gung-Ho gulped, then turned around and grabbed a large armful of the Joe Mine Detector's equipment.

Turning back to the Joes by the van, Duke put his hands on his hips and looked them over. "I have to say you guys look a bit beat-up."

"We feel it, too, sir," moaned Hit & Run.

"And where the hell did you get these weapons?" asked Duke as he took Beach Head's AK-47 and watched the ammo-clip slide out.

"From the van's driver," said Lady Jaye. "It, uh, was the best we could do in the time we had."

Tossing the thirty-year-old assault rifle into the trees, Duke cursed, "It's all crap. Get rid of it. I'm not trusting the fate of the free world to this stuff."

"But Duke," asked Leatherneck, "What do we do if we get attacked?"

"Tripwire and I have pistols and I've got my submachine gun." The Joes began murmuring to each other. "Hey, if you can't take it, then go back to Sarajevo and catch the next plane to Wimp City, because I don't want to hear it!" barked the Joe First Sergeant. "We'll find weapons by the time we reach Banja Luka, I promise you. But the fact of the matter is Cobra Commander is sitting on a nuke and Destro is going to try to take it away from him. I don't like the feel of that one damn bit. Now let's get back in the van and get the hell out of here."

A flurry of "Yo Joes!" filled the air, and the team threw their defective weapons into a ditch, then crammed back into the van. The gray vehicle sputtered back to life and started back up the curvy, narrow roadway.

After less than an hour, the rattling gray van was blanketed beneath a starry sky and walled on one side by thick forest that was either plush with life or broken to pieces by the hand of man. On the other side were steep cliffs that dropped into the Vrbas river, a moderately sized waterway that paralleled the road most of its way north.

Most of the Joes were quiet. Shockwave and Tripwire managed to start a debate about how to properly defuse bombs; otherwise it had grown depressingly stale inside the van. Gung-Ho and Leatherneck were actually leaning on each other and catching some quick Z's. Duke had taken Lady Jaye's position in the passenger seat, and was growing very annoyed with the body odor of the fat driver. Scarlett sat at Snake Eyes' side now, but the Joe Commando silently stared at the starry sky and kept his thoughts to himself.

When the driver started banging the roof of the van and crying something out in German, everyone immediately snapped out of their near-comatose states.

"Lady Jaye!" barked Duke, attempting to be heard over the panicking fat man, "What is his problem? What's happening?"

The Joe Covert Operations Trooper unbuckled herself and knelt forward between the driver and passenger seats. As the fat driver ranted on, she nodded her head and turned to Duke. "He says that there is another tunnel coming up, and Banja Luka is on the other side. But he doesn't want to go through."

Duke sighed. "Tell him we have to go through. That was our deal."

Lady Jaye relayed the information, but the driver shook his head, unbuckled his seatbelt, opened his door and ran off.

"Well, that's just great," growled Leatherneck.

Turning to the team, Duke waved his hand, "If Banja Luka is on the other side of the tunnel, then we don't need the driver anymore anyways. Gung-Ho, get up here and drive."

"Me? Why me?"

"Cause I feel like sticking you in the hot seat today, that's why."

"Yes, sir." Fighting back a bought of grumbling, the Marine crawled up to the driver's seat, turned the van back on, shifted it into gear and pressed the accelerator.

Shockwave called up to Duke, "Sir, I've got a bad feeling about this. No tunnels along this road have had any lights. Are you sure we should just be charging in?"

"What choice do we have?" replied Duke. "We don't have time to climb over the mountain." After thinking for a moment, the First Sergeant turned around and handed Shockwave his pistol. "Here. If something happens, I want you armed. Tripwire? Give Leatherneck your pistol. I've got my submachine gun. That should help cover us a bit better, okay?"

"Let's hope so," said Gung-Ho, "Cause here comes the tunnel!"

The van entered a completely black entrance that had no end in sight. Gung-Ho lowered the van's speed and lowered gears, since the only light he had to work with was coming from the van's weak yellow headlights.

"Where's the end?" asked Lady Jaye, "I, uh, don't see a light at the end of the tunnel."

"Yeah, this is weird," said Gung-Ho.

"Does the tunnel have a turn in it?" suggested Tripwire.

Duke shrugged. "It's possible. There might be a turn up ahead, but I can't see—"

The van's headlights shattered in sequence, drenching the Joe team in complete and utter darkness. They were experienced enough not to scream in panic, but that didn't mean their levels of anxiety didn't jump off the scales.

"Silencers! Get out of the van, now!" ordered Duke as he opened his door and cocked his 45mm. Without any light to guide them, the Joes clumsily fell all over each other as they slid open the van's door and rushed out of the vehicle. Only faint metallic reflections could be seen as their eyes desperately tried to adjust to the darkness.

"Aargh!" cried out the Joe S.W.A.T. Trooper.

"Shockwave? Shockwave did you get hit?" asked Scarlett.

"Y-yes…dropped…gun."

Three loud shots echoed through the tunnel. "Leatherneck? Did you fire those?"

"Yeah, Duke. We've got to fight back!"

"There are too many friendly targets to risk hitting! Hold your fire!"

"Ow!"

"Who was that?"

"M-me, Duke…Lady Jaye. Hit in leg." The sound of a body collapsing to the asphalt could be heard.

"Who could be doing this?" asked Scarlett.

Suddenly, a powerful floodlight turned on in the tunnel, blinding every Joe in the area, causing them to cover their eyes and turn away.

"Drop your weapons!" roared out a deep, amplified voice from further down the tunnel. You are all now prisoners of Cobra Commander!"

Nearly blind, this time because all he saw was white, Duke turned to the sound of Cobras marching towards him. Although unable to focus on them, he did recognize the shade of green on their uniforms: Night-Vipers. He could also recognize the silhouette of the man standing in the center of the group.

"Zartan."

"Excellent vision, Duke. I thought for sure that this floodlight would cripple your team indefinitely, but Zandar said you would recover too quickly. It seems he may have been right."

Looking around as well as he could, Duke searched for the silhouette of Zartan's brother, but saw no one. "I don't see your kin anywhere, Zartan."

Snorting a short laugh, Zartan looked over his shoulder, "That's because staying hidden is what my brother does best. But he's not too bad at pulling off a covert operation or two when I need it." As Zartan smiled, the fat driver of the van walked up to his side. Grabbing the bottom of his neck, the driver pulled his facemask off, revealing who he truly was.

"_Guten tag_, Sergeant Hauser," gloated the fat driver.

"Zandar," growled Duke as he cursed.

"Of course," said Zartan's brother, "How else do you think we got past those soldier's so easy? They knew that if they stopped me, they'd die. Their plea for help was quite compelling. It fooled your friends. Hell, it fooled me!"

"I doubt that it was fake," whispered Duke.

By now, the Joes had their eyesight fairly-well adapted to the floodlight, but they were still surrounded by the Night-Vipers.

"Now where were we? Ah yes. Drop your weapons. Now!" barked Zartan.

Looking around, Duke couldn't see any point of escape—_but wait!_ There were only nine Joes left in the tunnel, and it wasn't hard to calculate who was missing. "Do it, guys."

"Don't do this, Duke!" protested Gung-Ho.

"Do it!"

Setting down their small arsenal of weapons, the Joe team surrendered, leaving themselves open to blunt blows to the head and tackles from behind. In very little time, they were all shackled and being shoved down the length of the tunnel.

As the Joes walked out of the tunnel, Duke saw a Night-Viper speaking on a radio. Duke stopped walking and grinned. The Viper glared at him, "What do you find so amusing?"

"You're speaking German. I don't much like German anymore."

"Shut up and keep moving." Duke was pushed back into motion, and the Viper went back to his conversation on the radio.

1.

"Commander Destro!" called a Cobra Officer from the passenger section, "There is an emergency situation in the cockpit that requires your attention!"

Turning away from his Despoiler hoverjet, Destro handed the wrench he was working with to a Techno-Viper and stormed back to the passenger section of the plane. He grabbed the officer as he walked through the door.

"Ow! C-Commander! Please, let go of my neck, you're going to break it!"

"The next time you call out the words 'emergency' and 'cockpit' into a plane full of tense and trigger-happy mercenaries I will have you shot on site, do you understand?"

Attempting to nod, the officer cringed, "Y-yes, Commander. I-I'm sorry, sir." Destro let go of the Cobra agent and shoved him into an empty passenger seat.

Continuing on to the cockpit, the new Cobra Leader walked in and was deafened once again; this time, though, it was by alarms and excessive chatter over the radio. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Commander Destro! Thank goodness you are here." sighed the Air-Viper pilot. "We are in a critical situation."

"Well, then, update me."

"Yes, sir. We have entered Bosnian-Herzegovinian airspace, and are under assault by their Air Force."

Destro waved his hand. "We anticipated this. Call in our Hurricanes."

"Yes, sir." As the pilot radioed a squadron of Cobra Hurricanes to come escort the three Cobra cargo planes, Destro turned to the co-pilot.

"What aircraft are approaching us?"

"Four J-22 Orao attack jets are moving to intercept us. Members of the Republika Srpska Air Force. The Hurricanes should have no trouble with them."

"Agreed." Destro looked out of the cockpit window as two of the Cobra jets dropped from the sky and took positions in front of the Snake's Head cargo-plane. When the J-22's got close enough, the Hurricanes thrust forward, quickly unleashing a barrage of missiles upon the smaller jets and obliterated two of them within seconds. Firing back at one of the Cobra cargo planes, the other J-22s hit the cockpit dead-on, sending a shockwave through the air that rattled Destro's plane. The giant Snake's Head jet violently burst apart, spewing flames, vehicle parts and screaming bodies across the sky as it spiraled for the ground.

"Unacceptable!" Destro grabbed a headset and called out, "Vapor pilots! Destroy the remaining Bosnian jets! If another cargo jet goes down there will be reciprocations for every pilot here today!"

On cue, the four Hurricanes swarmed the Bosnian fighters and blasted them into the record books in almost no time at all. But Destro was still angry. "If another one of my cargo planes gets as much as a bullet-hole in it, I will remotely de-activate the power system to your Hurricanes and cause all of your untimely deaths, understood?"

As a flurry of "Yes, sirs" and "Sorry, Commanders" poured through the radio, Destro dropped the headset, turned around and walked out of the cockpit. Before he left, however, the Air-Viper pilot asked, "Can you really do that, Commander? Remotely shut off their power, I mean?"

"No. But they don't know that." Destro slammed the door and walked over to the coffee pot in the passenger section. Tea just wasn't going to cut it right now.

2.

Packed like salamis inside small meat trucks, the Joes felt worse than they did in the van. The meat trucks were obviously ones still in operation and not usually warmed up—the smell of molding beef was nearly pulling the vomit from the Joes' stomachs. Chained to meat hangers, the soldiers had little choice but to endure the torture.

Twisting herself around, Scarlett turned towards the Joe First Sergeant. "Duke, I can't keep Lady Jaye awake any longer. I don't know if she'll make it; she's lost a lot of blood."

Frowning, Duke coughed. "I can only hope that they'll take us out of these damn meat lockers pretty soon. We've been travelling for over an hour."

"Do you think Beach Head's okay?" asked Leatherneck from behind Scarlett.

"I don't know, he's in the other truck. He took a harder hit than Lady Jaye, but he was wearing armor."

Leatherneck began looking around. "Hey. What is that sound?"

Duke looked up. "Tapping. Morse code."

Smiling Scarlett looked to the truck's floor. "It's Snake Eyes. He's telling us he's underneath the truck!"

"So that's where he went!" said Leatherneck, smiling. "That guy has got some seriously big balls."

"Once this truck stops, he's going to try to free us," said Scarlett. "We need to be ready."

"Be careful," warned Duke, "We've got casualties to care for."

After a few more minutes, the truck began to slow down and shifted to a lower gear. Duke nodded to his teammates, and they all slumped down to weaker-looking poses. The truck finally stopped, jerking their bodies back and forth. Sounds of doors slamming and men talking could be heard. More door slamming, and the trucks revved their engines back up and started moving again.

"What's going on?" whispered Scarlett.

"It must have been a checkpoint," deduced Duke.

"So what do we do th—"

The sound of a man climbing up the rear doors tapped through the truck. It was followed by the sound of running across the roof. A hollow clang thundered from the front end, then cries of panic and the opening of the truck's doors. The vehicle began to shake and slow down, but after the door shut again, the truck sped up.

Scarlett heard faint screams of rage; soon after, bullets ripped through the meat truck's thick sides, flying over the slumped down Joes packed inside.

Almost.

"Damn."

Scarlett looked over to Leatherneck. "Your arm!"

Trickling with blood, the Marine's left forearm carried a hefty tear in it. "It…it went through. I'll be all right."

"Not while you're—" Cut off by more machinegun fire, Scarlett continued, "While you're bleeding like that."

"Damn it."

The Joes swung painfully from their chains as the truck accelerated even more, then swerved left. Crashing into another vehicle, the Joes now hung at an angle and Leatherneck's blood began to drip onto Duke's shoulder.

"What is that ninja-guy trying to do to us? My wrists are almost broken!" griped Leatherneck."

"Relax. There are probably a dozen Night-Vipers out there, and Snake Eyes had to take them out with only a big, bulky truck to use as a weapon."

The truck's rear doors opened, letting in a rush of very welcome fresh air.

"Snake Eyes!" cheered Scarlett, unable to stop the tears pouring from her eyes.

The Joe Commando quickly hopped into the back of the tilted truck and began unlocking the chains with a blood-stained key.

Rubbing his wrists Duke stepped out of the truck and was amazed to see what Snake Eyes had hit with the truck: it was the other meat truck. Looking with pride and concern at his fellow Joe, he said, "Excellent work, Snake Eyes. Go release the rest of our team while we carry Lady Jaye out." Nodding in acknowledgement, Snake Eyes jumped out and ran to the other vehicle.

3.

Gazing across the rows of Joes standing before him, Hawk felt pride once again—but this time it was mixed with a great deal of fear. The Joe team was no longer standing comfortably in the top floor of the PIT; now they were stuffed into the cargo hold of a C-5M Galaxy. More importantly, it wasn't the whole team—most of them hadn't returned from their assignments around the world. Still, it was an impressive force, and Hawk intended to use them to their fullest potential.

"Joe team!" he called from the front end of the massive cargo plane, "We're moving on to phase two of our plan. Thanks to your efforts, Cobra's 'Save the World' program has collapsed upon itself. The Cobra Army is on the run, and from what our intelligence reports can tell us, Destro has left Cobra Island to confront Cobra Commander in Bosnia."

Gasps and murmuring filled the crowd.

"You mean Cobra Commander ain't dead?" asked Bazooka.

Hawk nodded. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you guys, but honestly, I wasn't completely sure until now. And now, it's our job to get to Bosnia and put an end to Cobra. Forever."

"You really think we can do that?" asked Short-Fuze.

"Well, thanks to you guys, Cobra doesn't have an army left. There's never been a better time to take them down. Their army is in shambles and their leadership is collapsing upon itself worse than it did during the days of Serpentor. But what it comes down to is we can't let Cobra start battles wherever they damn well please, no matter who they're fighting. So let's get in there and clean the snakes out! Yo Joe!"

The crowd raised their arms and cheered, "Yo Joe!"

Hawk smiled, turned around and entered the C-5M's cockpit. "So, Wild Bill, what's our position?"

"We just crossed Normandy and I was about to get clearance to enter German airspace. But land sakes, General, I'm a'pushin' this big goat as fast as I can, and there just ain't no way we'll get to Bosnia in time to help our boys and girls out."

Hawk looked out the cargo plane's window and watched the Conquest X-30 that was flying escort. Sunset was still a few hours away, but Hawk could feel a darkness drape over him. "We've got to do what we can, Wild Bill. My only regret is that we didn't bring any heavy vehicles. I'm putting the men into a lot of danger."

Adjusting his hat, Bill thought for a minute. "What about Armadillo's vehicle? Ain't he showing that thing off at some sort of conference in Turkey?"

If he didn't have an image to maintain, Hawk would have smacked himself if the forehead as hard as he could. Turning to the co-pilot, he ordered, "Crazylegs, get me Armadillo on the radio, then find the frequency for the Turkish government. Let's see if I can pull a few strings…"

4.

After the team was completely free of the meat trucks and Beach Head, Lady Jaye and Leatherneck were treating their wounds, Duke looked down the hill. Hit & Run had been sent on recon, and was now returning at a brisk pace.

"H&R, what can you tell me?"

"There's a big structure down by the river. It's called the _Kastel_ and it's crawling with Vipers. It's pretty old, though. If the Commander isin there, he sure isn't worrying much about defense."

Nodding, Duke checked the ammo in the rifle he took from a fallen Night-Viper. "The _Kastel_ isn't much more than a tourist trap nowadays. We shouldn't have any trouble getting in."

Gung-Ho sniffed his uniform and growled, "Yeah, but they'll probably smell us comin'."

"_Que sera, sera_," said Scarlett. "We'll just have to shoot from a distance, and these nice Night-Viper rifles should help with that."

"Beach Head, are you going to be okay up here?" asked Duke, "I can leave someone behind to watch over you guys."

"Don't insult me like that, Duke. You need all the help you can get, and Lady Jaye, Leatherneck and me would just slow you down. Go on. I can still fight, and Leatherneck is still cranky. We'll be fine."

Taking a deep breath, Duke nodded. "Okay, but I'm holding you to your words. If any of you get a scratch, you're going to join Slaughters Marauders for a year!"

"Damn, Duke, now that's just mean!"

Marching down the hill, armed only with sniper rifles, the Joe team prepared to rescue the world from the threat of a nuclear weapon.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**Rehash**

Without a doubt, another fifteen minutes of reconnaissance would have been greatly appreciated; but Duke knew that he was on a tight schedule. Destro was on his way, and the Joe team had to find Cobra Commander before the new Cobra Leader did. Once those two hotheads met up, all hell was going to break loose.

Running from tree-to-tree, the Joes kept themselves fairly well hidden; Snake Eyes, of course, was impeccable, and nowhere to be seen. No guards were in view yet, but as the team moved into striking distance of the _Kastel,_ they had to keep their eyes open for snipers.

Then the first hiccup happened: the front gate opened and the Thunder Machine raced out, covered with Dreadnoks armed to the teeth with barbarically customized weapons. It followed the road leading straight to the group of injured Joes by the meat trucks.

Scarlett looked over at Duke with a look of panic in her eyes. The Joe First Sergeant shook his head and pointed towards the _Kastel_. The team moved closer.

Then there was a second hiccup: a pair of Trubble Bubbles rose up from the rear of the ancient structure and swarmed around it in a search pattern. As one of the Flight Pods swooped over the Joes, Hit & Run ducked for cover and crashed into a bush. The Air Trooper piloting the Bubble didn't seem to notice the commotion, and simply continued on around the _Kastel._

Duke looked over to the Joe Light Infantryman, who was brushing thorns off of himself and cursing. Resisting a smile, Duke moved the team a few more steps closer to the building.

Then the third hiccup belched out loud: a platoon of Range-Vipers marched out of the _Kastel_ and spread out into the forest. Duke could see that the time for a sneak attack was over; Cobra obviously knew that the Joes were somewhere in the area, and were intent on finding them.

Using hand signals, the First Sergeant broke the team in half and sent them their separate ways. He let Snake Eyes have free reign, however; the Joe Commando was usually more deadly when he worked alone.

1.

Moving down to the Vrbas River, Range-Viper RV-425 adjusted his mask and looked around. The mask was tight, and had never fit his face right. Perhaps it was because of his big chin and long nose. Whatever the reason. RV-425 still liked having a mask; he was a brutal killer, but he was a _shy_ brutal killer.

Birds chirped and flew around the dark black sky. All a bit too pretty for RV-425's taste. Tempted to raise his grenade launcher and obliterate some cutey-pie birds, the Range-Viper stopped as he took notice of movement up in the trees down the river.

"Three-twelve, you see that?"

"What?"

"Movement. In the trees." 425 pointed to the south. "See? The branches are moving."

After squinting in the direction, 312 shook his head, "Four-Two-Five, you're smokin' dope. There ain't nothin' down there." The Range-Viper waved his hand and turned away.

"But I'm sure I saw something…"

Jerking with shock and pain, RV-425 collapsed to the ground as a pair of bullets tore through his chest. RV-312 spun around in surprise, but soon followed his teammate in a collapse of his own as he took a shot through the neck.

The other two Range-Viper's in the squad looked over to see what was happening. When they saw their teammates' limp bodies on the ground, they jumped for cover behind some bushes.

"What the he hell just happened?" screamed RV-298.

"Snipers with silencers. Must be using the Night-Viper weapons that Zartan warned us about. Damn!" RV-134 loaded his missile launcher. Get ready to cover me!"

"Roger."

The Range-Viper jumped up, but came face-to-face with a growling G.I. Joe troop running at him with his arms spread wide. The bare-chested muscle-beast grabbed the Cobra and crushed him with a brutal bear-hug. RV-298 attempted to save his teammate, but was dropped by more silenced fire. RV-134 slumped to the ground and groaned in pain, trying to figure out how many of his ribs had just been broken.

The big Joe smiled and adjusted his hat. "That's how a Marine says 'Hello'." The Joe then swung his arm back and punched it forward, smashing the Range-Viper's face so hard that the Cobra was nearly lifted off of the ground as he was knocked backwards a good six feet. "And that's how we say 'Goodbye'."

2.

Scampering through the wet brush, Range-Viper RV-296 chased the quick-moving clump of camouflage around the _Kastel_. His hand ached from where a Joe had just shot it, and he had no intentions of letting this Joe scum get away, alive or otherwise…

Until a tree branch smashed into his face and sent him into a backwards spin through the air.

RV-487 watched his teammate tumble across the muddy rocks and grabbed his grenade launcher with both hands. A G.I. Joe Marine stepped out from behind the tree, dropped the broken tree branch and dusted his hands. Snarling, RV-487 aimed at the Joe and fired a barrage of grenades through the air.

Luckily for the Marine, RV-487 was as green as they got when it came to grenade launchers. Jumping for his life, the Joe avoided certain death, but no doubt had his hearing beat to hell by the obliteration of the tree behind him.

Two more Joes ran down to help their friend and pointed in the direction of RV-487. Cursing in panic, the Range-Viper dropped his grenade launcher and ran back towards the _Kastel._ The sound of a bullet thundering past his left ear caused him to jerk to the right; he tripped over a tree root, crashed to the ground and slid through the mud.

"What the hell are you doing?" barked RV-89, the platoon's officer. He reached down and pulled RV-487 up by the arm. "Where is your grenade launcher? And where is Two-Ninety-Six?"

RV-487 looked back to the Joes; they were gone now. "We were attacked by a group of Joes. I barely got away."

"You airhead," growled the officer, "We are Range-Vipers! We don't run away from our enemy, we tear them to pieces, do you understand me?"

RV-487 nervously nodded. "Y-yes, sir."

"Here." RV-89 punched his missile launcher into 296's stomach. "Take my launcher and go find those Joes. I'll go find RV-112 and meet up with you in a few minutes."

"Y-yes, sir."

Staggering along at half the speed he should have been, 487 anxiously scanned the forest for the Joes he knew had to be waiting to pick him off. Bird chirping seemed to double in its volume, the sound of fish jumping in the river was almost deafening. But worst of all, the sweat pouring from his hands was making his gloves unbearable.

Stopping to take his gloves off, the Range-Viper set down his missile launcher and struggled to pull off the sweat-soaked leather. But as soon as the first glove was pulled, a bullet slammed 487 in the stomach. Collapsing over himself, the Range-Viper began coughing up blood, but managed to grab the launcher with his bare hand. Looking down-river, he saw three Joes walk out from behind a cluster of trees. Scowling in rage, the Viper brought himself up to one knee and pulled the missile launcher up into firing position. Seeing that the Cobra was down but not out, the Joes ran for cover. RV-487 aimed for the group leader who arrogantly held his ground, and fired the rocket. Spewing smoke and flame, the small gray missile shrieked through the forest and smashed into a tree behind the leader, shattering out shreds of bark and whips of flame.

Quivering as he stood up, RV-487 dropped the empty missile launcher and looked on in awe. _Did I just kill _the _Duke, super-soldier of the G.I. Joe team?_

The silhouette of a very raggedy man rose in front of the flaming tree; he lifted a rifle and quickly fired back at RV-487, knocking the Cobra backwards onto a pile of rocks. The silhouette limped over to the Viper and cocked his rifle, then fired again. In the new light, it was frighteningly obvious that this man was not in a position of mercy.

"That was a little rough, don't you think, Duke?"

"This guy just about incinerated me, Tripwire. I had the prerogative."

RV-89 could feel his heart pumping harder and his breath deepening. _Oh my god that's Duke! Four-Eighty-Seven almost killed Duke!_ Peering around the tree he was using for cover, the Range-Viper Officer slowly raised his grenade launcher and unlocked the safety. Looking over to the last living member of his squad, RV-112, he tipped his head in Duke's direction and looked back. 112's eyes nearly leapt from their sockets, but the Viper nodded and readied his own grenade launcher.

Spinning around the trees, the two Vipers screamed in rage and fired a volley of firepower in Duke's direction. The First Sergeant dropped to the ground and covered his head as the grenades zipped past him and obliterated the foliage a few feet away. Tripwire fell backwards and luckily landed on a soft bush.

Suddenly, RV-112 jerked forward, kinking his back. He dropped his launcher and fell face-first to the ground. RV-89 stopped firing and spun around to see a camouflaged Joe aiming a Night-Viper rifle at him. Less than a second later, the Cobra Officer was on the ground as well.

3.

Hit & Run swung the Night-Viper rifle over his shoulder and ran over to Duke, who was lying motionless on the ground. "Duke! Duke are you all right?" Nearly half of the First Sergeant's uniform was burnt off, and his skin was red with burn marks.

Groaning, Duke turned his face towards Hit Run and tried to talk, but he winced and instead laid in silence. Groaning, Tripwire sat up with his hand on his head.

Scarlett and Shockwave ran over to their teammates. "Hit & Run, what happened?"

"They got ambushed by a couple o' Range-Vipers. The snakes seemed to have a thing for Duke, 'cause they aimed at him and didn't even notice me. Luckily they were pretty bad shots or else he'd be dead."

"I…ain't…that easy," whispered Duke. The Joes looked down to see their First Sergeant pushing himself up off of the ground and grinding his teeth with pain.

Scarlett knelt down next to him, "Duke, don't do this. You're injured pretty badly. I can take over from here. Just—"

"Bull!" barked Duke, "I am…not letting…anyone take over. Hawk gave me this mission from day one…and I intend to see it through to the end." Using Scarlett's shoulder, Duke pulled himself back to his feet. "We are going into that _Kastel_ and we are going to stop Cobra Commander…from threatening the world with a nuclear weapon. And I will not relinquish command until I am dead or worse. Understood?"

Looking down, Scarlett replied, "Yes, sir."

"Where's my gun?" Gung-Ho handed it to him with a raised eyebrow. After checking the rifle, Duke looked around. "Where's Snake Eyes?"

Emerging from the brush, the black ninja caught everyone by surprise. He was wiping blood from a knife—standard Range-Viper issue.

"I can assume the last four Range-Vipers have been dealt with then?" asked Duke. Snake Eyes slowly nodded. Tearing off the burnt and torn shirt from his uniform, Duke looked towards the _Kastel_. "Okay then. We make our move."

"Uh, sir?" said Shockwave as he pointed to the sky, "We've got company."

4.

"Go! Go! Go!" cried the Air-Viper Officer as he shoved out the last Stinger jeep from the Snake's Head cargo plane.

"Cobra!" cried over three dozen Vipers and Iron Grenadiers as they followed the black vehicle on its descent towards the shore of the Vrbas river—and the _Kastel_.

Red parachutes whipped open, one after another as Destro's strike force poured down from the Bosnian sky in an act not unlike the drops over Normandy in World War II. But this time, it was Cobra attacking Cobra, and these jumpers were finding their target.

Destro stepped out of the plane's passenger section, tightening the long black gloves of his Iron Grenadier uniform. Elegant, decorated with gems and draped by a long red cape over the right shoulder, it was a powerful image to behold. Perhaps its most dominating feature, however, was the golden facemask. When Destro rode into battle with his Grenadiers, he felt that his usual silvery titanium alloy mask was not worthy of a man who held the fates of men in his hands. Of course, the gold mask was simply a titanium alloy mask wrapped with a thin layer of precious gold, but his men need not know that.

"Lord Destro, your Despoiler is ready for you," said the lone Iron Grenadier Officer left on board the cargo plane. "Is there anything else that you require?"

"No. Make sure the planes are refueled over the Mediterranean and return here as soon as possible."

"Yes, my lord."

Destro walked up a small set of stairs that led to the cockpit of the Despoiler. Once settled onto the seat, he fired up the jets; the black hoverjet rose up off of the cargo plane's floor and floated to the exit ramp, then dropped towards the ground. With the wind vigorously flapping his red cape, Destro looked down upon the drop zone; smoke was rising from trees near the _Kastel_, and there appeared to be bodies lying in the brush.

_The Joes arrived here first. Very well._

Dropping past Vipers and Grenadiers still drifting towards the ground, the new Cobra Leader kept his eyes focused on the burning trees that sat about fifty yards from the stone walls. A red alarm flashed on the Despoiler's console, but before Destro could look down, rapid machinegun fire ripped across its left wing. Accelerating down to the right, Destro looked to the northwest: a Trubble Bubble was flying up and closing in. A new alarm began ringing on the console, signaling an attempt by the Flight Pod to acquire missile-lock. Banking left and firing his thrusters, the new Cobra Leader began a swerve around the Bubble. The siren signaled a lock, and Destro turned to face the Pod. Flaring red and puffing out a stream of smoke, a small rocket detached itself from the Trubble Bubble and snaked through the air towards the Despoiler. Patiently tapping his fingers on the joystick, Destro waited for the missile to reach ten yards, then he fired the hoverjet's base thrusters and elevated twenty feet in less than a second. The missile tried to arc up to follow the Despoiler, but it was going too fast, and so it zipped by, missing its target. A new signal began to ring on the console, as Destro achieved a missile-lock of his own. Firing a golden rocket from the bow of the Despoiler, the new Cobra Leader watched it spin through the air and slam into the Trubble Bubble, shattering it—and its pilot—to pieces.

Cursing the delay that the small dogfight had cost him, Destro looked back to the ground and tilted the Despoiler forward, accelerating to a dangerous speed in order to satisfy his desire to make up time. Pulling up and firing the hoverjet's thrusters in a hard braking maneuver, Destro settled to the ground and landed upon a large shrub, incinerating it with the Despoiler's flaming jets.

Jumping down from the cockpit, Destro walked over to a group of a half-dozen Vipers and Iron Grenadiers gathered around a burning tree. "What can you tell me?"

A Cobra Officer stepped forward holding some scraps of metal. "Commander, we have found multiple bodies of Range-Vipers around the area. Also, we believe these are shell fragments from Range-Viper grenades. They must have shot at this tree, or at least someone standing by it."

"Hmm. Excellent analysis."

"Lord Destro!" called an Iron Grenadier a few feet away. He stood up from behind a bush and held up a burned and torn uniform.

Destro walked over and grabbed it from the Iron Grenadier's hands. "My god, this is Duke's!" Looking back to the tree, Destro felt a chill. "Come, men, we move on the _Kastel_ immediately!"

Marching towards battle, Destro found it difficult to keep his mind focused on the tasks at hand. _If Duke has fallen, can my pathetic army stand against this force?_

An Iron Grenadier Officer ran over to him. "Lord Destro, a platoon of Night-Vipers and S.A.W.-Vipers have taken positions along the castle's walls. There are reports of H.E.A.T.-Vipers atop the towers, but I cannot confirm it."

"Are there any vehicles?"

"There was a Flight Pod attempting to return to the courtyard, but a Flak-Viper shot it down. Other than that, the structure has shown little activity."

"There shouldn't be much. It's just four walls and a courtyard. I'm not sure where the Commander intends to—"

"Destro!" called down a voice from high upon the _Kastel's_ walls. It was a voice that the new Cobra Leader had hoped to never hear again, yet just like with riding a bicycle, he knew he could never forget it.

Looking up the wall, Destro scowled when he saw Cobra Commander standing next to the tower with S.A.W.-Vipers at his sides and his hood and cape flapping in the wind. "Cocky bastard," whispered Destro, "He didn't even bother to wear his facemask."

"Why do you bring an army to strike me, Destro? An army made of my own soldiers? Men that I hired to serve _me_!"

Destro took four steps forward and pointed towards the Commander, "They are _my_ soldiers, now! Mine, because you abandoned them with your stupid assassination stunt at the United Nations!"

Hissing, Cobra Commander crossed his arms, "Surely you can see the brilliance of that plan! It was so good, even _you_ couldn't figure it out!"

"Completely irrelevant. The fact of the matter is I did figure it out, and I am here to make sure that you never take command of Cobra ever again!"

Cobra Commander began guffawing, almost hysterically. Destro reached over to his rocket gauntlets and began tapping them. "What is so funny?"

Wiping tears from his eyes, the Commander looked down to the new Cobra Leader. "I pulled this over on you once, Destro, but I never imagined that I could do it again. And Zarana! Kudos to my sister for fooling you better than I ever could have!"

Destro's jaw dropped. "Zartan?"

The Commander pulled off his hood, revealing the face of the Dreadnok Leader sporting his characteristic sneer. "Surprised?"

Feeling weak at the knees, Destro took a step back. "And the Baroness? That was Zarana? But we made love…"

"And she said you were pretty good for an old Scottish aristocrat. But your precious Anastasia has been locked up on Cobra Island for days, and you didn't even know it!"

Despite the feelings of panic building in Destro's heart, he also felt a massive amount of relief. "Then…then she didn't side with the Commander."

"Not at all. Unfortunately for you…" Destro watched as all of his troops turned around and pointed their guns in his direction. "…your troops are still working for Cobra Commander."

"What?" gasped Destro. He then nodded, "Of course, Zarana paid them off."

"Naturally." Zartan pulled on his cowl, which looked odd atop Cobra Commander's uniform. "I have been authorized to offer you partnership in the new Cobra Order one last time, Destro. Join the Commander, or die in obscurity."

Looking around the field, Destro knew that there was truly only one choice to be made. He quickly raised his arm and aimed his rockets at Zartan, who took a step back in shock. Over forty Vipers aimed their weapons even closer at Destro.

"Are you mad?" cried the Dreadnok leader.

"I have but one question, Zartan," thundered Destro, "Where is Cobra Commander?"

Stomping out of the main gate, a man wearing a highly-advanced set of body armor walked within twenty yards of Destro and stood his ground.

"I am here, Destro, and I am sorry to say, your little missiles won't have much effect on me."

Pulling back his arm, Destro grinned. He had designed the armor after all, and it could easily protect the Commander from a gauntlet rocket. It would sure give him a good jolting, though.

"My dear Cobra Commander, it is so pleasurable to see you again. I had begun to fear the worst."

"Oh bull! Don't feed me that drivel, Destro! You wouldn't have crossed the globe to come destroy me if you had any concern for my health. You're still pissed off about the nuclear weapon and you want to make me suffer for it, don't you think I can see that?"

Destro stood in silence. The Commander had nailed it, square on the head. Still, he had to suffer, and the best way to do that was to ensure their alliance for years to come. _It is always wiser to have a tighter grip on your 'friends' than on your enemies._

"Commander, while I am still at a loss as to why you decided to make me your stool-pigeon for this scheme of yours, know that my loyalties to you are not completely drained. You have never been a reliable ally, but you have funded my work for decades, and that is not something that I can easily forget. Let me ask you, have you found someone else to provide you with state-of-the-art weapons? Is that why I have been cast aside so heartlessly?"

Twiddling his thumbs and mumbling, the Commander couldn't look at Destro. "Look, it was Mindbender's idea! He always likes his crazy contraptions better than yours, you know that. It's not like I think you're stupid or something, it's just someone has to take the fall for the nuke, and it sure as hell was not going to be me!"

Destro walked over and patted Cobra Commander on the shoulder. "I know, my friend, but if you play with fire, there's a good chance that you'll get burned. Come, let us go into the _Kastel_ and produce a new strategy." As the two allies walked towards the main gate, Destro looked up to the Dreadnok Leader. "Zartan! Joes are running rampant in the area, and Duke is leading them. Find them! Stop them!"

Watching Destro and Cobra Commander enter the _Kastel_, Zartan ground his teeth and cursed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Siege**

Rumbling up the road with the noise control of an eighteen-wheeler smashing into a steel mill, the Thunder Machine approached the two abandoned meat trucks sitting tilted over in the ditch. Screeching to a stop, the completely customized weapon-on-wheels took a firing position about forty yards away. The hyperactive hum of a well-oiled twin mini-gun filled the air as the Thunder Machine's main guns came to life; it was quickly drowned out by the roar of 7.62mm bullets firing at a combined rate of over six-thousand-rounds-per-minute. Needless to say, the meat trucks were scrapped, collapsing in upon themselves or bursting into shrapnel.

Jumping down from the side of the Thunder Machine, Buzzer whistled, "Now that's what I call a good show o' shootin', Thrasher me pal!"

"Of course it was! It was a lotta fun, that's for sure!"

Torch hopped down from the back of the Machine and walked towards the wreckage of the meat trucks. Extending the hose of his flame-thrower to arms-length, the shaggy Dreadnok began to snarl, "If it were up ta me, I'd a' taken out these hunks o' junks a lot more permanent-like!" Flaring up his flame-thrower, Torch arched an arm of fire to the wreckage of the meat trucks. Now fully drenched in flame, the trucks melted down into scorched glop.

"Whew!" said Ripper as he waved the smoke away from his face, "It smells like burnt pork chops."

"Heh, maybe they're burnt Joe chops!" snorted Monkeywrench.

"There weren't no Joes in there," scowled Buzzer, "They don't die that easy."

"Then were is they?" asked Thrasher.

On cue, a bullet shot tore through Ripper's left shoulder. Screaming in pain, the Dreadnok dropped his rifle, fell to his knees and grabbed his wound.

Running back to the Thunder Machine for cover, Torch cried, "What the--? Where the hell did that come from?"

Two more shots fired in from the forest and punctured the Dreadnok vehicle's front right tire. Thrasher simply laughed, "If he thinks that's gonna stop me Machine, he's a stupid one, he is."

"Get over here and help me you jerk-wads!" screamed Ripper, now painfully trying to pull himself across the road with his right arm.

"I ain't goin' away from the Machine, no way!"

"What's that, Monkeywrench?" snarled Buzzer, "You're volunteering to go help Ripper?"

"That's not what I said!"

Buzzer grabbed his fellow Dreadnok by his shoulders and shoved him out towards Ripper, "But it's what you're gonna do now, isn't it?"

Crashing to the ground and rolling up to Ripper, Monkeywrench fearfully looked back to the Thunder Machine, then covered his head as his harpoon gun came crashing down next to him. "Carfeul with that!" he barked as he pushed himself up to his knees, "If me gun misfires, do you know how much work it is to reload it?"

"Shut up, you moron!" growled Ripper, "There's somebody out in the forest ripe and ready to kill us and you're _screamin'_ yer _bloody head of!_"

Cringing back in fear, Monkeywrench whimpered a meek apology, then picked up his harpoon gun.

After his fellow Dreadnok helped him back to his feet, Ripper turned to look over at the meat truck wreckage. A wiggling branch in the background immediately caught his attention.

"There! There's the bloke!" cried the Dreadnok. Screaming in pain, Ripper grabbed Monkeywrench's harpoon gun and fired the three-pronged projectile into the forest. The razor-edged knife sliced through the foliage at blinding speed until it made contact with a distinctly non-tree-like target.

A man cried out in pain.

"Did you hear that?" said Monkeywrench as he held Ripper up, "Ya hit 'im! With me harpoon, no less!"

Bent over in pain and unable to let go of his bleeding shoulder, Ripper shivered as he looked at his teammate, "S-swell."

Dropping Ripper, Monkeywrench arrogantly marched towards the forest and followed the path of the harpoon. After a few moments, Buzzer and Torch were in the trees with him.

"Do ya see a body?" asked Torch.

"No," replied Monkeywrench, "But I see a heck of a lot of blood." He pointed to leaves and grass stained nearly black with blood.

Buzzer raised his diamond-studded-chainsaw to his shoulder. "Well then, blokes, this nasty Joe ain't gonnna be so tough after all."

"How do you figure that?" asked Torch?"

"Because if it bleeds," smiled Buzzer, "We can kill it."

Tilting their heads back in laughter, the Dreadnoks walked deeper into the forest.

Running up to the _Kastel's_ western entrance, Duke checked the ammunition in his hand—five bullets. Cursing, the Joe First Sergeant watched Gung-Ho, Scarlett and Leatherneck run up to him and stand with their backs to the wall.

"So what's the plan, fearless leader?" asked Leatherneck.

"Destro is keeping the Commander busy on the other side, so we need to make our move here. Unfortunately, we're running desperately low on ammo. Any ideas?"

Gung-Ho smiled and adjusted the sleeves on his jacket. "I carry my own ammo, _mes amis." _

As the hefty Marine stomped towards the small western gate, Scarlett panicked. "No! Gung-Ho, come back!"

Duke placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. She turned around and looked at the Sergeant in shock. "It's okay," he assured her with a smile on his face.

Gung-Ho walked up to the two Cobra Troopers who stood guard at the gate. "_'Allo_, gentlemen. Quite a fine day_, n'est-ce pas?_"

The Troopers looked at each other in shock, then aimed their guns at Gung-Ho. "Stop where you are, right now!" ordered the troop on the left. "Get your hands up!"

Coming to a stop, the Joe Marine smiled and placed his hands behind his head. "Absolutely! I don't mean to be a hassle. I was just passin' by and was hopin' that you knew the way to a gas station."

The right guard walked over and began patting down the big Cajun. "Yeah, right."

Gung-Ho's smile vanished. "Are you callin' me a liar?"

The Trooper looked up from his crouched position with a look of fear in his eyes. "Uh…no, of course not, I meant…"

"I don't like bein' called a liar! Ma _grand-mere_ said I was the most honest boy she ever knew. Do you know how much it would hurt her to know that someone called me a liar?"

"Now look, Joe, I've got the gun…"

Gung-Ho frowned and began to snarl, "It would just shock her! Shock her to death! And I don't take kindly to Cobra scum makin' death-threats at ma _grand-mere_!" With that, Gung-Ho reached down and grabbed the Cobra Trooper's shirt with his right hand and the rifle with his left. Throwing the rifle away, he lifted the Trooper up off of the ground. Afraid to shoot at the Joe and possibly hit his teammate, the other Cobra took two steps back, then cried in panic when the other trooper was flung through the air at him. The two guards crashed into the gate and tumbled over each other. Once they regained their wits, they were knocked back out of them by the stock of the first guard's rifle.

Scarlett ran over smiling and punched Gung-ho in the shoulder. "Ouch!" He began rubbing his arm.

"That's not nice, using your grandmother like that! If she were alive today, what would she say?"

"What? She ain't dead! She's pushing one-hundred-and-two, but she swore she'll make the next century, and frankly, I believe her!"

Leatherneck massaged his wounds for a moment, and Duke loaded his rifle. "Good job, Gung-ho. Our next step is to raise hell in that courtyard. It's undoubtedly packed with Cobras, so there's no way to do this with finesse. But you know what our assignment is. Let's hope the other guys are doing as well as we are."

Splashing through the rocky riverside, Snake Eyes and Tripwire ran up to a side of the _Kastel_ that was under very little guard. Red parachutes were floating in the river water, along with the ruins of a H.I.S.S. tank that had failed to open its fourth chute and tumbled out of the sky.

Snake Eyes looked up the wall of the structure, then pulled a rope and grappling gun from his backpack.

Shaking mud from his boot, Tripwire asked, "Hey, where'd you get the rope, Snake?" The Joe Commando placed his finger in front of his mouth. Tripwire nodded, then whispered, "Oh yeah, the Range-Vipers. Sorry."

Delicately aiming the gun, Snake Eyes fired the hook into the air, landing it atop the wall. He then pulled on it until it snagged an edge. Jumping up the rope, the Commando began a brisk climb; at about fifteen feet up, he looked down and ushered Tripwire to follow him.

Tripwire held the rope and stroked his chin. "I…I don't think I can do it, Snake. You know that I can barely keep myself standing up straight."

Frowning, Snake Eyes slid down and landed on the ground. He stepped back and ushered to the rope.

Boggled, Tripwire pointed at himself. "You, you want _me_ to go first?"

Snake Eyes nodded.

Gulping, Tripwire stepped forward and looked up the rope towards the top of the wall. The more-than-likely possibility of Cobra Vipers walking a patrol along the edge compounded the terror. Snake Eyes grabbed the rope and handed it to Tripwire. He patted the rope and ushered his hand upwards. Nodding, Tripwire took a small jump onto the rope, and began climbing. After a few feet, his foot slipped and he slid down, but Snake Eyes pressed against his rump, stopping the slide. Taking a deep breath, Tripwire continued his movement up, slowly but surely.

Five minutes later, Tripwire's quivering hand reached up over the edge of the wall and grabbed the last stretch of rope. Groaning, the Joe Mine Detector heaved himself up, then swung his leg over the wall. Quivering again, Tripwire gave one last pull up, and rolled his body over the edge of the wall, ending up on his back looking up into the blue Bosnian sky. Gasping for breath, the Joe began giggling as he soaked in the diminishing sunlight and took pride in his great achievement. Still chuckling, he sat up, only to have the joy ripped from him by the view of three Cobras pointing rifles in his face.

Raising his arms, Tripwire loudly stated, "I surrender to you three Crimson Guardsmen! Please do not shoot me with those three AK-47s pointed in my direction!"

"What the hell are you yelling for?" asked the Siegie on the left.

"He's giving info to his friends on the rope," said the center Guardsman.

Tripwire's eyes bugged out. "No I'm not! I came alone, I swear! I'm a master commando, and I don't need any help."

"Then why did we catch you so easily, master commando?" scathed the third Crimson Guardsman as he pulled the Joe's gear from him, "You're just that Joe nimrod Tripwire. Nobody ever worries about running into you."

Tripwire's eyes narrowed.

The Siegie on the left began laughing, "Yeah, we're more worried that you'll kill us by dropping your pack of mines on us than we are of getting shot!"

The Crimson Guardsmen burst out laughing; Tripwire ground his teeth and eyed the pistol in the third Siegie's holster. He reached out and grabbed its handle; but forgetting to unlock the holster, he couldn't pull it out. The other Guardsmen stopped laughing and looked on in confusion; after a hard pull, Tripwire clipped the trigger, firing the gun, and sent a bullet down the third Guardsman's leg. Yelping in pain, the Siegie began hopping around and dropped his rifle. Tripwire jumped for it, but the center Guardsman reached for it as well, and the two men tugged at opposite ends of the rifle. Tripwire stepped back and stumbled over his gear lying on the floor. The collapse gave Tripwire the momentum he needed to strip the rifle from the Siegie's hands, and the AK-47's bayonet slashed the Cobra's palms drastically. To get back onto his feet, Tripwire achingly used the rifle as a cane; but he quickly saw the last Crimson Guardsman charging him. He lifted the weapon into firing position under his arm and took a step back. As he did, its stock smacked into the brick wall and caused the rifle to misfire. A shell blasted up across the attacking Siegie's forehead.

Snake Eyes leapt onto the top of the wall with his rifle at-the-ready, but when he landed, the calm, cool ninja was forced into a double-take. What he saw before him seemed like a sadistic "Three Stooges" act: one screaming man was hopping around on one foot, another was running in circles with his bloody hands extended, and the third man screamed while holding onto his face; all this while Tripwire sat on the wall's edge with a gun pointed at them.

"Oh, hey, Snake Eyes," said Tripwire, expressing a look of pride mixed with a touch of relief, "Glad you could make it."

"Get this guy away from us!" cried the central Crimson Guardsman.

"Quiet!" ordered Tripwire with a smirk on his face. The Siegies, surprisingly, obeyed him immediately.

Snake Eyes scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders.

Slowly lowering his binoculars, Hit & Run let out a deep sigh and turned around, sitting against a large rock. Panting, Shockwave ran out of the brush and collapsed to the ground.

"Damn it, dude…you gotta…you gotta give me a chance to keep up, or else…else you're gonna get ambushed…and I can't help you."

"Sorry, Shock, but we're on a tight schedule. Duke wanted us back to the meat trucks in five minutes."

"_Roughly_ five minutes! He said _roughly_ five minutes! Damn, how long have you been here?"

"Two."

"Two?" Shockwave had to resist the urge to punch his teammate. "So you got here in three minutes?"

"Good math skills, Shock."

"Grrr…"

"Check this out," pointed Hit & Run, "This is bad stuff." Shockwave snatched the binoculars and looked towards the road. There were a lot of strange, scampering movements moving down the bumpy drive. The binoculars enlarged what he was looking at, but couldn't confirm anything.

"Dogs? Are those dogs?"

"Yeah," replied Hit & Run, "Pit Bulls. Nasty if they're neglected, and you can bet those ones aren't loved too much."

"But…are those Vipers with them? I thought only the Dreadnoks were down here."

"I heard rumors from Mutt a few months ago that Cobra was hiring dog handlers."

"Snakes with dogs, eh?"

Hit & Run turned around and squinted at them. "Yep. They're trying to make a new line of trooper called a Canis-Viper."

"Canis-Viper? What is that, Latin?"

"Guess so."

Shockwave looked around the area, then shrugged, "There's only three that I can see."

"Yeah, but how many of us are there?" pointed out Hit & Run.

Shockwave turned around. "Look, I'm not too big on killing animals, but we've got a bigger picture to look at. It's them or the world. Dogs will be easy shots, and the handlers aren't likely to be very heavily armed."

Raising an eyebrow, Hit & Run gave Shockwave a surprised look. "You're a cop, and you think dogs are easy?"

"I mean that they aren't sportin' armor. If we hit 'em with a bullet, they're gone, okay? You can't use your fists; they can take a punch or two and still rip your skin off in less than a second. I've seen it happen. Intense stuff, but we can't worry about that."

"Yeah, thanks for helping me forget about it…"

Shockwave smacked the Infantryman in the head, "Will you chill out? I've got a rocket launcher from a Range-Viper, and you've got a rifle. We're set to go. Are you ready?"

"Puppy Power!"

"What?"

"Didn't you ever watch cartoons growing up?

"Cartoons? What are you talking about?"

"Never mind. Just go!"

Running up to the only tree providing cover for thirty yards, Shockwave dropped to one knee and aimed for the Vipers. The pit bulls caught his odor and began barking and snarling. One of the Canis-Vipers took notice of Shockwave's position; pointing to the tree, he alerted the other Cobras to where the Joe was. Released in unison, the trio of dogs charged Shockwave, who broke into a sweat but held his aim.

Pulling the trigger, the Joe S.W.A.T.-Trooper ignited the Range-Viper rocket and fired it through the air, impacting the ground just a few feet ahead of the dog pack. The erupting soil and rock sent the pit bulls flying through the air in every direction, tumbling across the road and crashing into thorny brush.

"There, that should be moral enough for you, H& R," whispered Shockwave, "All the dogs down in a single shot, and none of 'em killed. How's that for skill?"

"You damn Joe pig!" cried out the biggest, meanest-looking of the Canis-Vipers. He was the kind of raggedy, over-exercised walking tattoo that needed a muzzle himself. "Nobody does that to our dogs and lives to tell about it! _Bert! Ernie! Here boys!_"

Sperting out a laugh into his hood—an act he quickly regretted—Shockwave thought to himself, _Bert and Ernie? Oh yeah, this is gonna be good._ In less than a second, two enormous pit bulls ran back down the road from about fifty yards up. Shaggy, scarred and growling through broken rows of teeth, the two pitch black dogs were the kind of brutal beasts Shockwave had only heard about in myth.

The large Canis-Viper held out his gloved left hand, crunched it into a tight fist, then whispered the word, "_Eradico_." Bert and Ernie charged forward like bullets from a pistol,

charging Shockwave nightmarishly fast. Leaping through the air, Ernie reached the S.W.A.T.-Trooper first and clamped down, beginning an attempted massacre of the Joe's right forearm. Shockwave screamed, but was calm enough to use his other arm to swing a knife and stab the dog in the shoulder, causing it to yelp in pain as well. Before he could shove the animal off, Bert jumped onto Shockwave, making intense chomps at his neck.

Smiling, the Canis-Viper was about to cheer his dogs when he instead screamed in pain as he was shot through the legs and fell to the ground. Now on his hands and knees, his helmet was kicked off by his assailant and he was pulled back by his long black hair.

"Call off the dogs or I kill you, you have one second." Hit and Run shoved the barrel of his rifle into the Viper's mullet.

"Ouch! Okay! Okay! _Redeo!_" Bert and Ernie immediately stopped their assault on Shockwave and ran back over to the Canis-Viper, snarling at Hit & Run.

"Don't for a second think I'm taking this gun off of your head," warned the Joe Light Infantryman, "I suggest you choose your words wisely."

"There are three of us with two ferocious pit bulls to command. Don't get cocky. Remember, your friend is on his death bed right now."

"I feel like crap," said Shockwave as he stood up, capturing the Viper's surprised stare, "But I'll live."

"How did? But they--!"

Shockwave pulled back the ruptured sleeve of his uniform. It revealed a pad of chain mail. "You think an old S.W.A.T. jockey like me isn't always prepared for dog attacks? Why else would I have agreed to get attacked by a bunch of mutts?"

"Mutts? They're pure-bred!"

Shockwave shook his head, "To me, pal, they're just pure ugly."

Looking down from the _Kastel's_ northeast turret, Tripwire nervously gazed across the ancient fortress' courtyard.

"I'm not sure, Snake," he whispered, "There are a few places down there that the nuke could be hiding. A storage shed, an ammo dump, the Viper's tents. Heck, even the latrine could fit a small bomb in it."

Snake Eyes tapped Tripwire's shoulder and pointed towards the back of the yard. A small concrete structure sat in the corner, surrounded by four Crimson Guard Immortals. Almost cinderblock-like in appearance, the stone cubicle screamed "safe house".

"Good eyes, Snake. The problem is, we'll never get into that thing without a distraction."

Snake Eyes put his finger perpendicular to his lips, pointed to his watch, then pointed down to the courtyard again. Tripwire smiled and nodded.

Bursting through the west gate, Duke, Scarlett, Gung-Ho and Leatherneck leveled every Viper standing within twenty yards of the side entrance. Their distraction was perfectly on time. The Cobras were so focused on defending the main gate that they had drastically neglected the side gate. That quickly changed as the Joes charged in, guns-a-blazin', and making a mockery of Cobra Commander's elite Bosnian Viper Force.

Thankful for the massive amount of distraction, Snake Eyes ran around the wall towards the storage cubicle with Tripwire clumsily following behind him. The Joe Commando was both impressed and annoyed at the Crimson Guard Immortals' composure—they had barely moved since the attacked started, and none of them had fired a shot. These Siegies were obviously well-trained or very experienced. Either way, this was not going to be a simple attack.

Dropping to one knee, Snake Eyes waited for Tripwire to reach him. Once the Mine Detector arrived, the commando spun him around and began pulling mines from his backpack.

"Snake, what are you doing?" whispered Tripwire, "Those things are volatile as hell, and should only be handled by a trained professional." Snake Eyes sighed and set the mines on the floor. After activating the three explosives, he handed one to Tripwire, who held it with amazing balance and control. Snake Eyes gestured in a throwing motion towards the ground. Tripwire's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Are you mad? You want me to throw this at the Crimson Guard Immortals like a Frisbee?" Snake Eyes nodded. Sweat trickled down Tripwire's brow, giving the impression of a sobbing face. Stepping forward, the Joe Mine Detector gazed across the row of Siegies and he attempted to pick out the weakest spot in their small chain. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Tripwire looked to Snake Eyes who now held up his Night-Viper rifle; he was pointing to the guard standing left of the bunker door. Gulping. Tripwire lifted his arm back and flung the mine down to the courtyard. Just as a Crimson Guard Immortal noticed the green disk awkwardly spinning through the air towards him, a muffled rifle shot clapped through the air, followed by the mine's explosion, sending the Cobra Elite Trooper tumbling across the ground and crashing into a pile of supply crates.

Tripwire looked over to Snake Eyes for a quick show of support, but the Joe Commando was already handing another mine out to him. Nodding quickly, Tripwire grabbed the explosive and looked down to the bunker and picked another target. Now throwing to the right-side guard, Tripwire gave a harder fling, and Snake Eyes took longer to shoot at it; but before the Siegies realized what was happening, the second mine burst, and slammed the guard into the far wall.

That was when the Cobras analyzed where the danger was coming from. Looking up to the top of the wall, the last two standing Crimson Guard Immortals aimed their missile launchers and fired. Picking up their last mine, the Joes ran from their position and escaped the shatter of brick and stone.

"We'll have to do this one on the move, Snake!" warned Tripwire, who was running exceptionally well now that he had an explosive in his hands. Nodding, Snake Eyes readied his rifle, and Tripwire threw the last mine, aiming for the nearest Siegie—but the mine flew over the Cobra and landed atop the bunker, skidding to a stop.

Now stumbling with every step, Tripwire was confused and a bit angry, "Why didn't you shoot, Snake? We missed the guard completely!"

Raising the rifle to eye-level, Snake Eyes aimed at the mine and fired; the following explosion blew a hole in the roof of the concrete bunker, a hole that could not have been made in the titanium-reinforced door.

Skidding to a stop, the Joe Commando kneeled down and fired at the two remaining Siegies, who merely stumbled back, since their armor was more than enough to stop the shells from a Night-Viper rifle. Grabbing Tripwire's vest, Snake Eyes leapt down from the roof, dropping ten feet to the top of the bunker and rolling with the hard landing; Tripwire, unfortunately, was much less prepared, hit harder, and cracked his knee.

"Damn it, Snake Eyes! I really wish you could talk sometimes, ya know? Ow!"

Crawling over to the crumbling hole in the bunker's roof, the Joe Commando pointed his rifle down and took a couple of quick shots. Then he jumped inside.

"Snake!" cried Tripwire, but it was too late. Grimacing as he pulled his leg across the bunker's roof, the Joe Mine Detector reached the edge of the hole and looked down…


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Meltdown**

"Hurry up, Lieutenant Altan! Believe me, we appreciate every ounce of help you're providing us, but we should have entered Bosnian airspace over an hour ago!"

"Sergeant Armadillo," said the Lieutenant in the Turkish Air Force as he adjusted his tiny beard and leaned towards the Joe sitting in the seat next to him, "I promise you that we are moving as fast we are able to." The officer waved out to the four AS 532 helicopters that were holding the massive G.I. Joe Rolling Thunder assault vehicle in the air via sixteen bulk steel cables. "We have four of our most powerful helicopters carrying your super-tank as fast as they can."

The G.I. Joe Armored Assault Vehicle Driver looked across the Grecian landscape and clenched his fists. It was a beautiful sunset, but he wasn't in the mood to take a photo. His headset started beeping.

"Hey Armadillo, it's Steeler. Any idea about when we're going to land?"

Slumping down into his chair, the Rolling Thunder driver responded, "No. I do know that we should have cleared Greece by now. I also know that Hawk was in a tizzy when he called us, and he's going to go insane when he learns how long it's taking for us to get to Bosnia. I smell a rat."

"Or a snakse," suggested Steeler.

Biting his lip, Armadillo slowly unlocked his holster and looked over to Lieutenant Altan. "Lieutenant, I am going to ask you this only once," pointing his 9mm pistol at the Turkish Officer, the Joe stared at him with stern determination, "Are you working for Cobra?"

Altan's initial look of fear softened into a wide sneer that burst through his small beard, "I am disappointed, G.I. Joe. I believed that you would calculate our connection with Cobra over an hour ago when we made the detour over the Black Sea."

"I don't care about your little victories. What I do care about is why you're helping Cobra!"

Altan adjusted himself so that he faced Armadillo. "There was a terrorist attack on the Sultan Ahmed Mosque in Istanbul. Before the terrorists could detonate their bombs, Cobra troops arrived and chased the infidels away, then disposed of the explosives. Our people are thankful to Cobra, and will not help you Americans destroy them."

Lowering his pistol, Armadillo sighed, "Let me ask you, Lieutenant, what time of day did the Terrorists come to the Mosque?"

"About two in the afternoon."

"Uh-huh. And when did the Cobra's arrive?"

Lieutenant Altan thought for a moment, then shrugged, "Two-fifteen."

"And they just happened to have specialists who knew exactly how to dispose of a bomb that I assume your specialists had never seen before?"

Turning away, Altan rolled his eyes, "That is not such an oddity."

"Maybe not. But Lieutenant, don't you find it highly suspicious that Cobra arrived so quickly and so well prepared to dispose of the threat? I say _they_ planted the bomb. Officer Altan, Cobra has been proven to pull this trick in numerous other countries. By delaying us you are only assisting the greatest terrorist organization to ever exist!"

Altan stroked his chin, then shrugged his shoulders, "You may have a valuable complaint, but there is nothing that I can do about it. I have been given my orders."

"To hell with your orders!" Armadillo swung out his arm, nearly throwing his pistol through the helicopter's window. "We're talking World War Three here! If we can't get any support to my teammates, then they're dead. And you know what? So is half of the population of Earth. Orders or not, you've got a much bigger concern than thanking Cobra, and that includes who your friends truly are."

Silenced by the look of fear and desperation on Armadillo's face, Lieutenant Altan turned forward and stroked his beard. Leaning up to the pilot, he gave a couple of commands, and fell back into his seat. Armadillo looked up as the sound of the helicopter's engine grew twice as loud and all four of the AS 532 choppers in the squadron tilted forward and accelerated.

"Thank you," said Armadillo.

"You have made a strong argument, Sergeant. Let us hope you tell the truth, or else there are another set of orders I will be happy to follow."

Nodding, Armadillo looked out the window and watched the Grecian mountains race below the swinging Rolling Thunder.

"ETA to Banja Luka!" ordered Hawk.

"Two hours and fifteen minutes," replied Wild Bill.

"Damn it all to hell!" Hawk had to use a great deal of restraint to keep himself from punching the side of the cockpit. "Duke has missed his last two check-ins, and satellites report that the Rolling Thunder isn't even out of Grecian airspace yet. This whole operation is collapsing in upon itself. We need more speed, Bill!"

"I'm flying the formation at red levels already, General. There just ain't anymore that I can do!"

General Hawk grabbed Wild Bill by the shoulder and leaned closer to the pilot, "You better not be playing it safe by even the slightest level, because you're carrying the fate of the world on the back of any restraint you give."

Looking over to the General, Bill felt tears of sweat trickle down his forehead. He reached down to the thruster controls and gave them one last budge forward. "I'll see what I can do, sir, but the engines will begin to overheat."

"Then burn 'em!" barked Hawk as he exited the cockpit and slammed the door.

"Don't you think that was a little harsh?" asked Captain Grid-Iron as he stood with his arms crossed in the hallway leading from the cockpit.

Hawk stormed down the rattling hallway and waved the Captain away, "I'm not here to debate my commands with you, Terrence."

Grabbing Hawk's arm, Grid-Iron stared at him, "Then _make_ time!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" growled the General.

"I'm trying to save my life, and maybe the lives of the free world. And maybe, just maybe, kick some intelligence back up your tightly wound butt!"

Wrenching his arm free, Hawk could feel his anger reaching explosive levels—and it scared him. "You…you're right. I'm panicking, and giving orders based on emotion, rather than logic."

"Bingo."

Hawk looked back up to Captain Grid-Iron. "I'm scared, Terrence. If we fail…"

Placing his hand on Hawk's shoulder, the Captain smiled, "We might lose, but we need to at least have a chance to score some points. You can't risk blowing us out of the sky before we even reach Bosnia...that's just damn stupid."

"You're right. Thanks. I'll head back to the cockpit and tell Bill to slow us down. But not by much."

"Of course not."

The view inside the _Kastel's_ bunker was exactly what Tripwire expected…and feared.

Standing between a bleeding Crimson Guardsman and a large wooden crate, Snake Eyes intensely rammed a crowbar under the crate's lid and wrenched it upwards. In a few moments, he dropped the crowbar and shoved off the lid.

"Careful, Snake. We don't know how sensitive the warhead is," warned Tripwire.

Throwing out some cheap packing foam, the Joe Commando uncovered the three-foot-long weapon of mass destruction that was held into a horizontal position by thick wooden bars.

"Well that's just great. How are we going to get it out of there? Use the crowbar?"

Snake Eyes looked back down to the floor and picked up the crowbar. Tripwire's face went completely pale. "You're not seriously considering breaking a nuclear warhead out with a crowbar, are you?"

Holding up his hand in order to silence his panicky teammate, Snake Eyes climbed atop the crate and pressed the bar's narrow point between the crate's inner edge and the wooden bar that held the warhead down. Then, pulling his arm back, the ninja thrust his palm forward against the opposite end of the crowbar, ramming the metal tool between the wood bar and the crate's inner edge, breaking the wood free.

Shaking almost as intensely as the crate was, Tripwire began chewing his knuckles, and quickly gnawed through his gloves. Snake Eyes moved to the other side of the crate, slid the crowbar into position at the wood bar's other end and repeated the maneuver.

Now that the wood was completely free, Snake Eyes lifted it out of the crate and threw it to the ground. Moving cautiously, he tried to lift the incredibly heavy warhead up but could barely budge it. Looking up to Tripwire, he waved at him to come down.

"What? Snake Eyes, I'm wounded. I can barely stand up. I'm not going to drop in there!" The Joe Commando sighed, then walked below Tripwire and waved again.

"You want to catch me?" gasped the Joe Mine Detector, "It's a seven-foot drop! You're no Roadblock, you know." Snake Eyes ushered again. Biting his lip, Tripwire swung his legs over the edge. "If this wasn't so important…" He then slid off of the hole's edge, and dropped down into Snake Eyes' arms. The commando stuttered and collapsed, but succeeded in reducing the fall to a soft tumble.

Getting back onto his feet, Snake Eyes helped Tripwire stand up, and guided him over to the warhead crate. "Oh wow," said Tripwire once he got a closer look, "This is more than just a nuke! It's an antique!" Confused, Snake Eyes looked closer. "See?" pointed out Tripwire, "It was built back in 1953. I bet it's just an old warhead loaded with a Sloika type nuclear explosive. It only weighs about half-a-ton and could only blast forty or fifty kilotons at best." Snake Eyes' raised eyebrow was obvious, even through his facemask and visor. "Well, it could still level a small city, sure, but this takes a lot of strain off of me at least. I can disarm this thing in minutes."

While Tripwire went to work, Snake Eyes looked up through the hole in the roof and listened to the sound of gunfire growing louder.

Stone and brick shards shattered just a few feet above Duke's head as he ducked a strike from a small anti-tank warhead fired by a H.E.A.T.-Viper. As the crackling debris began to settle, the G.I. Joe First Sergeant scanned the courtyard for a new course of action.

The entrance had worked like a charm. Gung-Ho's heavy-handed push through the doors had succeeded without fail; but once the team was inside, an entire battalion of Cobra Vipers of all rank and type rained down on them without mercy.

_The only safe spot seems to be near the bunker…_

"Gung-Ho, take out that pack of Air-Vipers! Leatherneck, pick up that dropped S.A.W.-Viper rifle and lay waste to the H.E.A.T.-Vipers on the left tower!" Duke ran forward with his eyes set on an Assault Systems Pod hooked up behind a H.I.S.S. tank roughly ten yards away. The pod was fully transformed into assault mode, but was curiously still attached to the jeep. Regardless, Duke saw an opportunity. But before he could move, Scarlett dropped onto the ground next to him.

"Are you mad? If you make for the A.S.P., every viper in the _Kastel_ will take a shot at you. I know you far too well, Duke, and I can tell when you're scheming something crazy."

Duke grinned, "The Vipers won't get their shot if you shoot at them first."

Scarlett frowned even harder, "I have about three shots left in my magazine. How am I--?"

Tossing an AK-47 rifle to Scarlett, Duke looked out to the A.S.P. "I have a nearly full clip, since I took it from a Cobra Officer."

"Duke no!"

"You've got no say in this!" barked the Joe First Sergeant with a hard glare back at the Counter Intelligence Trooper. "I can't use the rifle on the run or in the pod, so just take it." Looking back out to the A.S.P., Duke set himself on his hands and toes. "Ready?"

Scarlett nodded. "Yes."

On cue, Duke charged out, and just as Scarlett warned, bullets began punching the ground around him. Working as quickly and as skillfully as she could, the Counter Intelligence Trooper fired back at every Viper she could see taking a shot at Duke. Progress was slow, but Vipers did begin to fall.

Staying mere inches ahead of the fire, Duke scampered across the courtyard, leapt for the A.S.P. and rolled underneath it. The stream of rapid-fire chased him, then rang off of the pod's hull. Duke looked back for a thumbs up from Scarlett, saw her fire the AK-47, then give an "Okay" signal. Crawling out from beneath the A.S.P., Duke quickly unhooked the cockpit's latches and opened it. Gunfire clanged the pod near Duke's hand, but quickly stopped, most likely thanks to Scarlett.

Rolling onto the seat, Duke powered up the controls and waited for the hum of its recharge to end before he pulled back on the control sticks and raised the cockpit to a forty-five-degree angle. Rotating the sticks elevated the twin cannons set at the head of the A.S.P., and tilting the sticks sideways rotated the Assault Systems Pod nearly three-hundred degrees.

Making quick use of the Heads-Up-Display, Duke targeted Vipers holding positions in the towers. Pressing both firing buttons, he launched a pair of shells into the northeast tower, blasting a hole into its side and sending the H.E.A.T.-Vipers inside running for their lives. Quickly tilting the control sticks in another direction, Duke aimed the pod towards an un-manned H.I.S.S. tank that a group of S.A.W.-Vipers were using for cover. Pressing the fire buttons once again, Duke blew a massive hole into the side of the vehicle, sending shrapnel raining down onto the frantically running S.A.W.-Vipers. The Cobras didn't make it far before Leatherneck took them out with one of their own guns.

An explosion behind the A.S.P. burst the Stinger Jeep that the pod was attached to and shook it drastically. The trailer hitch and chain snapped and the pod broke free. Duke spun the damaged-and-now-slowly-moving A.S.P. around and faced a H.E.A.T.-Viper atop the far wall. The Viper was frantically reloading his anti-tank rocket launcher, but Duke lowered the aim of the A.S.P.'s cannon's and prepared to fire—when a giant growling sound thundered in from his left side. Turning to look, all Duke could see was a dark flash before the pod was shaken and lifted up onto its right wheel. Scrambling to open the cockpit, Duke couldn't escape before the A.S.P. was flipped over.

Now trapped and facing the grassy courtyard ground, Duke looked over to his right and saw a pair of silver and brown boots walk up to the pod—followed by a cinderblock hammer dragging across the ground.

"Oh, no. Road Pig."

"Now that might have been a tad excessive, don't you think? NOT EXC-C-C-CESSIVE FOR ME! FUN! Still, Zartan has expressed his desire to retrieve this Joe alive and well, so please be cautious. F-F-FINE, DONALD! F-FOR YOU, ROAD PIG BE VERY C-CAREFUL!"

_Oh man, I forgot about his split personality disorder. Still, how am I--?_

Before Duke could finish his thought, Road Pig smashed his hammer down onto the back of the A.S.P. The pod was an effective little weapon, but it was also built by the lowest bidder. Its thin frame immediately began to buckle.

"TH-THIS IS FUN!"

_I guess I should have kept that AK-47 after all._

A scurry of footsteps renewed Duke's hopes, as he recognized the dark-gray boots running over to Road Pig. The boots leapt off the ground and the big ugly Dreadnok was tackled to the ground by a big ugly Joe.

"Gung Ho!" cried Duke, "Be careful, he's itching to kill something!"

Roaring with anger, Road Pig threw the Marine back against the A.S.P. and stood up, aiming his wrist-strap crossbow at the Joes. "YOU M-MAKE ROAD PIG VERY ANGRY! Y-OU HURT D-DONALD! ME MAKE YOU PAY!"

"Careful, Duke, that arrow he's got has a grenade hooked onto it!" warned Gung-Ho.

Frowning Duke snarled, "Well there isn't much I can do until you get me out of here!"

"Oh yeah, sorry." Standing back up, Gung-Ho ran away from the A.S.P., drawing the Dreadnok's fire. The arrow launched, but missed the pod—and Gung-Ho—completely.

"Someone needs to teach you how to shoot a crossbow, 'cause frankly, you stink!"

Looking for the voice that just insulted him, Road Pig turned to his left—and felt a yellow boot smash him in the jaw. Jerking right, he stumbled while the Counter-Intelligence Trooper performed a perfect landing on the ground.

"Scarlett, get back!" ordered Duke, "Take out the Vipers!"

"There are none left," said Scarlett as she turned to face him, "They ran off when you started shooting the A.S.P. cannons."

Now back to whatever level of sense he had, Road Pig charged up behind the Counter-Intelligence Trooper. "You are quite a striking lady, to be sure, but I'm afraid that I'M G-G-GONNA SMASH YOU INTO IDDY-BIDDY P-PIECES!" Raising his fists up high, Road Pig left himself wide open for a punch to the ribs from Gung-Ho, who slid in front of the Dreadnok and repeatedly pounded his mid-section.

"I'm gonna teach you some manners about how to treat a lady, ya big lug!" growled the Joe Marine.

Hunching over, Road Pig finally collapsed to his knees, and Scarlett swiftly sent him to the ground with a hard kick to the face.

After a couple of minutes, the A.S.P. was flipped back over and Duke jumped out, with only a few bumps, bruises, and a sore back. The Joe First Sergeant looked nervously around the courtyard. "This was too easy. There should have been a hundred Vipers raining down on us by down."

"And ol' Fang Face never passes up a chance to stick it to us," pointed out Leatherneck, "Where could he have gotten to this time?"

"I never left, you pompous airhead."

The Joes turned to see Cobra Commander enter the _Kastel _through the main gate, wearing his battle armor and being escorted by ten Crimson Guardsmen.

"Playing it safe?" mocked Duke.

"I always protect Cobra's greatest asset."

"Like you did in New York?"

The Commander smiled. "Tsk tsk, Duke. Are we still sour about that? You, above all people should know how important time is. I simply found a way to buy myself some."

"You ain't gonna win!" growled Gung-Ho.

"Wrong," said the Commander, "I already have. Do you see that bunker? Its walls are two-foot-thick reinforced concrete. Its door is six-inch thick titanium steel and its lock has no key. It is shut _forever._ What is inside? I think we can both answer that. Even if you find a way in I have a Crimson Guardsman watching the bomb (he didn't exactly volunteer, but thanks to a Cobra Brainwave Scanner he thinks he did). And all I have to do is whisper the activation code word and we all get turned to dust. That is why the Vipers retreated, and that is why I am now leaving." A Ferret, driven by Zartan, zoomed into the _Kastel_ and screeched to a stop next to the Cobra Leader.

"Cobra Commander!" cried out a voice from the courtyard. Everyone, Joe and Cobra alike, began looking around for just who called out. "Commander!" cried the voice again. Now able to focus on the voice, everyone looked over to the bunker that the Head Snake had just been talking about. Leaning heavily on Snake Eyes' shoulder, Tripwire also held onto a large metal cylinder. "Commander, your nuclear threat is over!" The Joe Mine Detector lifted the cylinder into the air, "I have removed the detonator from your sad excuse for a nuke! You can't use it now! You're done!"

Falling back against the Ferret, Cobra Commander cursed, "No! You're lying! There was no way into the bunker!"

"The roof!" snarled Zartan, "I warned you about the roof! It was only a couple inches thick! That storage shed isn't even supposed to be a bunker."

"Shut up!" barked the Commander.

"This round is over," said Duke, now really wishing that he was wearing a shirt, "We've found you, we've disarmed your bomb, and we have a small army on the way to reinforce us. Give up. Let's end this respectably for once."

Cobra Commander smiled, "You know that I will never be that easy. And you also know that escaping is my specialty." Turning to the Dreadnok Leader, the Head Snake ordered, "Zartan, tell Destro to activate Plan B."

Duke took a step forward. "What are you talking about? 'What is Plan B'?"

Cobra Commander climbed up onto the Ferret. "Basically, if we can't destroy a city with the nuclear bomb, we do it with conventional weapons." Tapping Zartan's shoulder, he rode off out of the _Kastel_. "Goodbye, Duke! Good luck stopping me now!" As the Ferret buzzed away, two enormous Snake's Head Cargo Planes flew low over the ancient structure and headed northeast.

The Crimson Guardsmen ran after their leader, and Duke turned back to his team. "Where could Destro be?"

Gung-Ho shrugged, "We never even saw him leave!"

Scarlett looked at the ground and held her chin, "The only city in any kind of marching distance is Banja Luka."

Holding his bleeding wounds, Leatherneck sat down. "Those planes were heading in that direction. I'd guess it."

Nodding, Duke began looking around the courtyard.

"What are you looking for, Duke?" asked Scarlett.

"A radio. We need to inform Hawk of what just happened, and more importantly, where he needs to go. As soon as we do that, we jump aboard a Cobra vehicle of _any_ kind and bee-line it for Banja Luka."

Gung-Ho picked up a fallen Viper's rifle. "What do we do about our guys out in the forest?"

Duke walked over to a Tele-Viper's backpack and replied, "They fend for themselves. As much as I want to help them, I know I can't right now. But they're big boys, and a crafty lady. They know how to fight, even wounded. They'll be okay."

_God I hope I'm right._


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**Final Approach**

Slowly flickering back to consciousness, Lady Jaye's eyes cringed at the sight of gray sunlight pouring into her weak irises.

"Where…where am I?"

Looking over from his position crouched behind a nearby tree, Beach Head held his right index finger in front of his mouth. "Quiet," he whispered, "You're in the forest just south of Banja Luka. We're hiding from some blood-thirsty Dreadnoks."

"What?" Lady Jaye attempted to look around, but cringed in pain. "Where is everyone?"

Loading his pistol, the Joe Ranger sighed, "They went on to the _Kastel_ without us."

"Without us? Why, because I'm wounded?"

Beach Head nodded, "Yeah, sort of. Me, too. Hey, we can take care of ourselves." He slapped a clip into his pistol and cocked the gun.

Frowning, Lady Jaye looked around, "But you said some blood-thirsty Dreadnoks are looking for us."

"Well, yeah, but I took out Ripper and damaged the Thunder Machine."

Slowly sitting up, Lady Jaye leaned against another tree. "Well, that's a start. Holy crap! Look at your shoulder! I don't remember you getting that wound."

Beach Head glanced at the bloody tear in his uniform across his right shoulder. "Oh, uh, the Dreadnoks fired a harpoon at me and it scraped me pretty deep. But I can't worry about that now. I've got other things to worry about, mainly saving our lives."

"But Beach Head, I can barely move, you've been shot and now your arm is torn up. I suggest we find a village or at least a home around here and hide out for a few hours."

Angrily glaring at his Joe teammate, the Joe Ranger pointed at her, "You've been unconscious for the last couple of hours. You haven't heard the massive battle going on down at the _Kastel_ nor have you had to dive for cover when the Dreadnoks started laying waste to the forest with their Gatling guns. I understand your concerns, Lady Jaye, but I'm not giving up until I send the Dreadnoks running away crying for their mommies, _comprende_?"

Too tired and in too much agony to try fighting back, Lady Jaye just took a deep breath. "Understood. Do you know where they are?"

Beach Head looked over to the northeast, "Yeah, they're about fifty yards over in that direction and closing in fast. We're near a cliff and running out of room to move."

"Do you have any weapons for me?"

Sighing, the Joe Ranger shook his head, "Sorry. All Duke left me with was this pistol and a couple clips of ammo."

Attempting to rise to her knees, Lady Jaye cringed and yelped in pain.

"What are you doing? You're in no condition for combat!"

Collapsing back to the ground the Joe Covert Operations Trooper gasped for air and held herself steady. "Neither are you, Ranger boy. Go get me a weapon so I can at least give you some covering fire."

"Yeah, but these are Dreadnoks; their weapons don't often 'shoot'."

Lady Jaye smiled, "Then give me your pistol and I'll cover you as you go grab a weapon from one of the Dreadnoks."

"Are you serious?" Beach Head cursed way too loud, which caused him to duck behind his tree. He looked back over to Lady Jaye. "I'm not exactly in tip-top shape myself, Jaye, you just explained that to me, remember?"

"Well I don't hear you coming up with any better plans!"

"Hey! Someone's yelling over there!" called out Torch from forty-yards away.

Beach Head looked around the tree, then zipped quickly back behind it. "Great, just great, they're coming this way."

"Then let's move," groaned Lady Jaye as she tried to stand up. Beach Head crawled over and quickly pushed her back down. He handed her the pistol.

"You ain't goin' anywhere. Cover me. Let's see if this plan of yours can work." He quickly crawled away through the brush and Lady Jaye nervously held the pistol as she pulled herself around the tree trunk.

1.

"Dreadnoks! Man, I hate these guys."

"Quiet, Hit & Run!" growled Shockwave as he pulled his teammate down behind some brush. "I hate 'em, too, but that's no reason to blow our position!"

Crouching down next to the Joe that he'd come to know very well over the last week-and-a-half, Hit & Run nodded. "Okay, sorry. Look, it's Buzzer, Torch and Monkeywrench, and they're obviously hunting for something."

"No. Someone, and you know damn well who they are."

Looking back at Shockwave, Hit & Run smiled, "It looks like you were right in wanting to stay off the roads."

"Cobra controls the roads. Here, we can stay hidden."

"But we're coming up on the river. If Beach Head and Lady Jaye are out here, they must have run out of room to maneuver by now."

Three loud gunshots thundered through the forest and the Dreadnoks cried out in panic.

"They may not be able to move," said Shockwave as he ran out from behind the brush, "But they'll always have a bit of fight left in 'em!"

Straight ahead, Beach Head ran out from behind a tree and tackled Torch. "What the bloody hell?" roared the Dreadnok, but those were his last words for quite some time. The Joe Ranger decked him across the jaw and sent him crashing to the ground.

"It's that bank robber Joe!" cried out Buzzer as he ran towards his fallen teammate and revved up his diamond-studded chainsaw. Beach Head quickly pulled Torch's flamethrower from the collapsed Dreadnok's hands and aimed it towards Buzzer. Pulling the trigger, he sent a streak of flame through the air, which Buzzer narrowly avoided by leaping behind a tree.

"Hey! You can't use our own weapons against us!" barked Monkeywrench, who raised his three-pronged harpoon gun and aimed it at Beach Head for the second time that day. Before he could use it, three more gunshots thundered through the trees, this time hitting the harpoon gun and knocking its projectile astray, impaling it into the side of a rather thick tree trunk.

Crawling across the grass, Buzzer reached for his chainsaw, but a heavy black boot stomped down onto its handle. Looking up as his sunglasses toppled off his nose, Buzzer caught a glimpse of Shockwave right before the Joe kicked the consciousness right out of the Dreadnok.

Attempting to scamper back to the Thunder Machine, Monkeywrench muttered the rage he felt at the loss of his harpoon gun. As he rounded a thick tree trunk, he stopped in shock as a Joe painted in green and wearing camouflage stood in front of him with his arms crossed.

"And j-just what are you sup-p-posed to be, a bloomin' toad man?" sneered the Dreadnok.

Shaking his head, the Joe sighed, "Monkeywrench, I've been a Joe for years now, and you still don't know who I am?"

"Should I, Mr. Toad?"

Clenching his fists, the Joe took a fighting stance. "Yeah, yeah you should, because it's a name you'll never forget again: Hit & Run!" Preparing to punch, the Light Infantryman was surprised how unconcerned Monkeywrench was that he was about to be punched—until he saw a reflection in the Dreadnok's glasses: Thrasher was behind him, swinging a tree branch. The wood clobbered Hit & Run, slamming the small Joe face-first to the ground.

"Thanks Thrasher!"

"Just shut-up and let's get back to the Thunder Machine before the other Joes catch up to us."

Nodding, Monkeywrench took a couple steps forward, then stopped and turned around.

"What are you doing?" barked Thrasher.

"I'm gonna leave this cocky little Joe a little something to remember me by!" Unhooking one of the powerful custom grenades hanging from his ammo belt, Monkey wrench pulled its pin and dropped it on Hit & Run, then ran off, giggling in true Dreadnok fashion.

After the explosion, he laughed even louder.

2.

Spreading through the streets of Banja Luka, the Cobra forces under Destro's command began ravaging Bosnia-Herzegovina's second-largest city, giving a horrible shock to the Serbs who awoke to the sight of Vipers and H.I.S.S. tanks charging through their neighborhoods.

"Destroy all in your path!" bellowed Destro, "We are not here to conquer! Today, we have come to obliterate!" _The Commander is such a Drama Queen, but he paid me ridiculously well, so if that is what he wants me to say, I suppose I will say it._ "Cobra!"

A cluster of Stinger Jeep missiles rocketed over his head, and shattered the base of a rather old-looking building about three-blocks down the street. With its foundation broken, the building collapsed upon itself, releasing a massive cloud of dust and ash into the air.

As the cloud engulfed him, Destro was approached by an Iron Grenadier Officer. "My Lord Destro, a moment of your time, please!" The officer waved a cluster of ash away from himself, then continued, "The troops are moving through the streets with ease, my lord, but the larger vehicles, such as the Stuns and the tanks are having trouble maneuvering through all the foliage that align the roadways. What should we do?"

Destro frowned, "Yes, I should have thought of this. Banja Luka takes pride in all of the trees that align its streets and roads, which aren't that big to begin with. We have no choice but to limit the vehicles to the transits and expressways and keep the troops on the main streets."

"But that will drastically slow us down, sir."

Grabbing the officer's neck, Destro snarled, "Don't you think I know that, you moron? Now get to work!"

"Y-yes, my lord!"

Watching the officer run off into the vanishing dust, Destro sighed. Was he so petty a man that he could be manipulated by Cobra Commander with money just as easily as he controlled his men by fear?

Ashamed of the answer, the Lord of Castle Destro felt a touch of relief when a pair of Frag-Vipers ran down the street, stopped and hurled a couple of grenades into a cluster of cars, blowing them apart.

"I invented those weapons!" _Perhaps that's why I do this for Cobra Commander. Not for the money, but because it lets me see my creations in action. Maybe It's worth every minute of stress that idiot puts me through._

Although his mood hadn't improved, Destro was now at least curious, so he waved his troops on and fired the gauntlet rockets that he designed.

3.

Exiting the park surrounding the _Kastel_, the Joes got their first clear look at the burning wreckage that the streets of Banja Luka had become. Destro had been precise in not starting his attack until he was at least three miles away from Duke's Joe team, which was both a blessing and a curse. It provided a radius of safety around the _Kastel_, but it also gave Cobra a safe range away from the Joes to work from.

Tightly gripping the handle of his rifle and muttering a curse, Duke turned to his beaten and battered Joes, "Cobra is tearing up the city, and it'll be a while before we can reach them. The Commander was thorough enough to take out every form of transportation in or around this fortress, so we have to go by foot. Unfortunately, we're not really in much of a condition to 'hoof it' right now. Any ideas?" Totally empty on inspiration, the team just shook their heads, then broke up and walked down the street.

After looking around the city block for a minute, Gung-Ho raised his hand. "Hey, Duke, I found something." The team walked over to him, and Duke raised an eyebrow.

"Bikes?"

A small bike shop sat along the sidewalk, with a miniscule sign hanging in front of it and some rather battered-looking bicycles resting in its window.

"Well, it's faster than walking," said Gung-Ho.

"I don't do bikes," grumbled Leatherneck.

"You do what I tell you to do, do you understand me, Sergeant?" ordered Duke.

Painfully standing at attention, the Marine replied, "Yes, sir!"

"No one is around to open the door," pointed out Scarlett.

"We brought our own key." Duke looked over to Snake Eyes, who handed Tripwire over to Gung-Ho, then walked over to the door and punched through the glass. Reaching in, he unlocked and opened the door.

After leaving Leatherneck's G.I. Joe Express card in the shop for payment, the team set off through the city, with five bikes and a trailer for Tripwire to ride in.

The group made good time, since the streets were clear and most citizens of Banja Luka were hiding for their lives. They were holed up inside their apartments much like the Polish in 1939, hoping and praying that the Nazi-like Cobra forces would pass them by.

Very few got their wish.

"This is humiliating."

"Quiet over there, Tripwire," ordered Duke, "There are more important things than pride to think about right now."

"Yes, sir."

"Look over there," said Scarlett as she pointed to a city block engulfed in flames, "Incinerators."

Slowly walking along the street's edge, Cobra Flamethrowers, decked out in their orange and silver suits, sprayed their flames across every building along their path, igniting horrendous fires that often sent Bosnian citizens running for their lives.

"Gad, I can smell the charcoal and gas from over here," moaned Leatherneck.

"Then do something about it!" barked Duke.

Not used to such a forceful command from Duke, Leatherneck paused for a moment, then nodded. He set his bicycle down and swung the massive S.A.W.-Viper rifle he insisted on carrying around from his back. Using his one good arm, the Joe Marine marched towards the Incinerators and when he was close enough, he kicked a can at the group's leader. It hit the Cobra in the head, causing the flamethrower to turn around. Jumping back with shock, the Incinerator waved his arm so that the other Cobras could see what was going on.

Gulping with a bit of nervousness (after all, he had never had five flamethrowers pointed in his direction before), the Joe Marine called out, "Drop 'em, snake brains! This gun could waste all of you in less than a second! Don't make me mad!"

"Never!" cried out an Incinerator on the right side. He charged forward, shooting flame and screaming "Cobra!" Leatherneck jumped for his life and hit the asphalt hard. There was a brief burst of machinegun fire, then the sounds of collapsing bodies and clanging metal.

Dusting himself off, Leatherneck looked behind himself and barked, "Hey, they was my shot!"

"Well you blew it, Marine!" growled Duke. "Just be damn thankful that we were there to cover your sorry butt! Now get on your bike and let's keep moving!"

As the team rode away, Leatherneck shook his head. _I thought _I_ was the cranky guy!_

4.

Stepping into the cockpit wasn't something that Hawk wanted to do at the moment. Guilt over his rude attitude a couple of hours earlier was still eating at him, but the same nervous anticipation was still with him. Could he be just as rude this time if Wild Bill gave him bad news? Absolutely. He was almost planning on it.

"Talk to me, Bill," he said as the door closed, "What's the sit-rep."

"I've actually got good news for you this time, General. We've just cleared Austria and are entering Bosnian airspace."

Hawk could have sworn he felt his jaw hit the floor. "How in the hell did you get us here that fast?"

Bill adjusted his hat and nervously grinned, "Well, we are in a C-130J _Super_ Hercules. She's got turboprops on 'er. I've sort of been running 'em at dangerous levels for a while now, and I also skipped a refueling we were scheduled for about half-an-hour ago."

"You what? You went over my head on two factors? Bill, I don't know whether to court martial you or kiss you!"

"I don't think I want either, General."

Confused, Hawk looked at the fuel gauge. "If you skipped our last refueling, why are all the engines still a quarter-full?"

Grinning, Wild Bill tapped his hat, "Because I know how your mind works, sir. I knew that you'd press us hard, so I figured it would be best to keep a big stock of fuel in a spare tank so that we could skip refueling. It's only a quarter-load, but it'll get us there. We may have to sacrifice the plane, though."

"I thought that that tank was holding fuel for the VAMPs. I may have to change my strategy a little bit, but hey, if it gets us to Banja Luka, I don't care one bit. Great work, Bill, I—"

A trio of red lights began flashing on the control panel.

"What's happening?"

Airborne, the plane's co-pilot, cursed. "Engine two just caught fire." Quickly jumping his fingers around the control panel, he managed to fizzle out the engine's smoke and get the warning lights to stop flashing.

"So what does this mean for us?" asked Hawk.

Tipping his hat back, Bill sighed, "It means that we're flying a bit slower now on a set of turboprops that are ready to explode. I suggest you get everybody backside ready to hop out, 'cause there's no telling when we'll go down."

"Understood. I know you'll do your best, guys. Thank you." General Hawk left the cockpit having accomplished something that he did not think was possible: he was even _more_ nervous.

5.

The dark, stank dungeon played havoc with her throat. The smell of rotting pools of blood filled the air, and were nearly strong enough to knock the consciousness straight out of a grown woman's mind.

But the Baroness was stronger than that.

Despite the putrid accommodations she was forced to live under, Baroness Anastasia DeCobray found the strength in herself to keep going, to keep believing that she would be with James once again…and the pink-haired skank would pay for what she had done to her.

Rising up from her mediocre bed, the Baroness walked over to the bars and looked through them as best she could. But it was dark, and Zarana had taken her glasses long ago. Still, just from the feel of the walls and the smell in the air, it was obvious that a fight had taken place here; a savage fight, with a great deal of drawn blood and heavy weapons.

_Destro fought here. I can just sense it._

The sounds of soft footsteps tapped down the hall. The glimmer of polished steel shone softly into the Baroness' eyes.

"Is that a sword? Have you come to save me Storm Shadow?"

"Not exactly." Out of the darkness stepped a red ninja, blade drawn and looking surprisingly tense.

Baroness moved back from the bars, "Slice? What are you doing here? I thought Storm Shadow eradicated you years ago."

"He tried," the ninja turned his head, revealing a cut in his facemask that wasn't very deep, "He failed."

"Well, if you are here, then—"

"Where is Dice?" said Slice, "He is at the dungeon entrance, hiding the bodies of the guards."

Raising an eyebrow, Baroness asked, "You killed the guards? I never heard a sound!"

"Of course not!" called a voice from down the hall, "We are professionals, after all."

"Dice," grumbled the Baroness, "What do want from me?"

Slice walked up closer to the cell's bars and looked in, "We want what any level-headed entrepreneur wants."

"Let me guess…" The Baroness rolled her eyes.

"Cash!"

"So let me see if I understand this: you killed the guards and are offering to free me, but only if I enter into a rather costly contract with the two of you?"

Slice began picking his teeth with his sword. "Yes, that is about right."

Looking around her cell, the Baroness sighed, shrugged her shoulders and groaned, "Why not? Anything is better that sitting in here."

"Good choice!" said Dice as he walked up, inserted the cell key and swung the door open.

Nervously stepping forward, Baroness jumped as Slice slid something down the flat of his sword and flung it into the air at her. "What is this?" she asked as she looked at what just fell into her hands.

"Just a treat from us. No charge."

Picking up the "treat", she recognized it immediately: _my glasses!_ "How did you get these?"

"Well, with Zarana in charge, security is pretty lax," answered Dice.

"Yeah, we've been sneakin' around for days," said Slice.

The Baroness frowned. "Days? And you've only just now come to rescue me?"

"W-well," stuttered Dice, "We w-weren't sure of our own interests yet."

Adjusting her amazingly clean glasses, Baroness walked cautiously out of the cell, "Indeed."

"But don't worry, your highness," said Slice, "We'll get you off Cobra Island as soon as possible and with no—"

"But we're staying on Cobra Island."

"We're what?"

Turning to face the red ninja, the Baroness glared, "We are going back to confront Zarana and get Cobra back into Destro's hands."

"But B-Baroness, ac-cording to communication reports from Bosnia, Destro has rejoined Cobra and is helping the Commander destroy Banja Luka. Honest!"

Crunching a fist, the Baroness painfully punched a dungeon wall. "Damn it! Sometimes he can be such an idiot!" Looking back to the ninjas, she frowned, "Personally, I don't care what happens in Bosnia. I am going to teach Zarana a lesson about stealing my identity. And you're going to help me do it!"

Bowing with spread arms, Slice replied, "Of course, boss. That's what we're here for."

"We'll see about that," whispered Baroness.

6.

"There it is!" pointed out Armadillo from the Turkish helicopter, "Banja Luka! Start lowering the Rolling Thunder to the road and we'll be out of your hair, Lieutenant."

After giving the appropriate commands in Turkish, Lieutenant Altan leaned back and looked across the green landscape. "Are you sure that your giant tank can make it to Banja Luka through the forests without getting 'stuck', Sergeant?"

Smiling, Armadillo looked over to Altan, "If you've ever seen the Rolling Thunder in action, Lieutenant, you wouldn't be asking that question."

"But Sergeant Joe, regardless of your super-tank's strength, I wonder if it can drive north into the city across these thin, wavy roads."

Slightly shrugging his shoulders, Armadillo replied, "It can handle an average-sized road reasonably well. These roads don't look too bad. I'm not a big fan of the tight turns, however."

Calling up to the pilot, the Lieutenant ordered, "Stop! All helicopters stop their decent!"

Ready to punch Altan, Armadillo growled, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Your big beast cannot make it to Banja Luke from here. You do not understand the terrain at all. We will take you there."

Armadillo waved his hands, "No way! That would put you right into the middle of the fight, and I'm not authorized to allow that."

Smiling, the Lieutenant tapped the rank insignia on his shoulder, "No, but I am. If I drop you here, you will never get to your battle. These southern roads are too complicated, but there is an expressway north of the city. If I set you down there, you will have plenty of room to maneuver and engage your enemy, yes?"

"But what if Cobra shoots us down before we even get there?"

Laughing, Lieutenant Altan spread his arms, "This is war, Sergeant Joe! Risk is a factor! Do you want my help or not?"

Sighing, Armadillo nodded his head and leaned back against his seat. He now had the lives of over a dozen Turkish soldiers on his hands. It was more stress than he wanted, but he also knew it was the only choice that he could make.

7.

Reloading his rocket gauntlets, Destro began to feel remorse for what he was doing. He now knew _why_ he was doing it, but could he _justify_ it? Banja Luka was not an unattractive city. It had beautiful sights and constructions, just like any modern city on Earth, and yet it was his job to destroy this place. On paper, the Commander's scheme seemed eccentric yet brilliant. But in practice, it was revealing itself to be horrendous overkill and massacre. Perhaps even…insane? Was Cobra Commander assassinating not a man but an entire city? And for what? Just for personal glory? Worse yet, he wasn't even the one doing the dirty work. He left that to his moronic minions, with perhaps the biggest moron of the day in charge of them all.

Destro began to grind his teeth when gunfire—not from Cobra vehicles but against them—began to ripple the wall near where he was standing.

"Commander Destro!" cried an Iron Grenadier Officer who came running towards his leader, "Are you all right?"

"Yes," replied Destro, "But where is that fire coming from? Are there Joes up ahead?"

Shaking his head, the Grenadier took a moment to catch his breath, "No, my lord. The local police are providing some resistance. We have also found a great deal of citizens holed up in the University. Some of them are resisting us as well."

"Then ignore them. We are here to destroy the city, not fight people desperate to save their homes. We will avoid them as long as possible, and deal with them only when we must."

"Yes, my lord." The Grenadier bowed and ran back to his regiment.

As the troop left, a deep roar fell down from the sky, breaking through the chaotic noise of battle. Looking up, Destro watched the shadow of a C-130 Hercules cross over his body.

_Good, they are here. I would rather fight the Joes than their mediocre allies in this battle._

A Stinger jeep carrying only two missiles drove down the street and Destro waved it over to himself. The driver opened the door and asked, "Yes, Commander Destro?"

"Take me to Cobra Commander."

"But, sir, I'm under orders not to—"

Destro pointed his rockets at the driver's head, "These are your new orders. Follow them!"

"Y-yes, sir!"

After Destro sat in the jeep, the vehicle hastily drove off down the street towards the west side of the city.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**Footprints**

"Go! Go! Go!" cried Hawk from the rear of the C-130J Super-Hercules, "Push the Armadillos and the V.A.M.P.s down the ramp and get ready for your jumps!"

The green mini-tanks and jeeps slid out the rear of the cargo plane and into the sky, where their parachutes immediately caught the wind and drifted them to the ground.

Ripcord ran up to the jumping point and waved his teammates on. "C'mon, buddies, we've got a war to win! Yo Joe!" The Joe Paratrooper leapt from the C-130 and bulleted for the ground.

In short succession, twenty more Joes ran off the plane as General Hawk guided them along. The last Joe in the row walked up to Hawk carrying a parachute pack. "This is for you, General."

Smiling, Hawk took it from Captain Grid-Iron's hands, "Thanks. I'll make good use of it."

As the Joe Leader put the pack on, Grid-Iron noted, "It looks like the second plane has already cleared, sir. We're the last to go."

"Good, let's get moving"

The Captain handed Hawk his rifle, "After you, sir."

Raising an eyebrow, Hawk frowned at Grid-Iron, "I know how to jump, Captain."

"Of course you do, sir, but I also know how to cover a superior officer."

Sighing, the General nodded, "Fine. Just don't use those damn footballs." Hawk clanged down the ramp, spread his arms and jumped.

"What's wrong with the footballs? They're cool!" Grid-Iron was quickly in the air behind him.

1.

"Take out those S.A.W.-Vipers, now!" ordered Duke as he skid his bicycle to a stop and swung his rifle up into firing position. Punching out a barrage of rapid fire, he helped push back a trio of S.A.W.-Vipers that were advancing on the city hospital.

"Duke! To the right!" cried Gung-Ho. The First Sergeant looked to his right, then jumped away from the sight of an RPG flying at him. As a window in the building behind him shattered and burst into flame, Duke rolled across the ground then took a firing stance. With three quick pulls of his rifle's trigger, the Joe sent the assaulting Cobra Bazooka Trooper collapsing onto the sidewalk.

As Duke ejected his rifle's empty magazine and threw it away, Gung-Ho ran up to him, "Nice move, boss, but there's a helluva lot more to go, and you're out of ammo."

Walking up to the body of a fallen S.A.W.-Viper, Duke picked up the Cobra's giant rifle and ammo-belt. "Looks to me like there's plenty of ammo around here."

"Yeah, but who's to say the gun even works?"

"Quiet." Duke looked around. "Where's Scarlett and the others?"

The Joe Marine began walking along the sidewalk, "I saw 'em run after some Vipers making a raid on an apartment building down the street. This way."

Duke nodded, "Okay then, let's—"

Stopping in his tracks, Gung-Ho turned around to see why his teammate was cut off, "Hey, uh, Duke, you okay?"

Duke pointed the giant S.A.W,-Viper rifle down an alley, "Look. Over there. On that H.I.S.S. tank."

Leaning over to look, Gung-Ho gasped and adjusted his hat, "Is that Cobra Commander? No way!"

"I'm going for him."

Grabbing Duke's shoulder, Gung-Ho shook his head, "No, sir! We've got to get the others! You can't just charge after the big snake without back-up, it's suicide!"

Snapping a glare back at the Marine, the First Sergeant growled, "We just barely avoided World War Three today! Do you think I'm going to pass up the chance to apprehend the psychotic madman responsible for threatening to destroy the Earth?" Laughing, Duke concluded, "Even if it costs my life, I have to take that chance, because he must pay for what he's done."

Shoving Gung-Ho aside, Duke marched down the alley without looking back.

"Duke," whispered Gung-Ho, "You've lost focus, _mon ami_."

2.

Jogging down the alley, Duke kept as low-a-profile as possible with a massive S.A.W.-Viper machine gun in his hands. It was fairly dark in the alley, and that helped, but there wasn't much clutter. A couple of boxes halfway down the alley and a dumpster at the far end were the only good cover he had.

Cobra Commander stood in the turret of the H.I.S.S. tank, obviously a H.I.S.S. II since it had a triple-barreled turret cannon and missiles attached to it. The Commander was pointing around himself and barking orders to a Cobra Officer on the ground.

It was a frustrating sight, seeing the leader of Cobra doing his sinister job without any opposition. Duke reached the stack of boxes and knelt down. He could do it. He had the shot, and a gun that would send a bullet through the Commander before he could even hear it.

Lifting the rifle into firing position, Duke targeted Cobra Commander and attempted to control his heavy breathing as he reached for the trigger…

_No!_

Duke dropped the rifle and collapsed back against the wall. His strategy was becoming everything that he and General Hawk had hated about Senator Bartell's assassination plan. The Commander needed to be brought to justice. Just finishing him off in cold blood would mean that he'd escape prosecution and basically, he'd have escaped one last time, even in death.

The Joe First Sergeant reached for the rifle, but jumped back as a ninja throwing star ricocheted off of the huge gun. Looking up and over, Duke saw a trio of Night Creepers crawling down the alley's fire escapes.

"I'd keep your hands off of that, Joe, if you want to live," said the Creeper in the lead.

"Who's to say my life's in any danger?" boasted Duke.

"Well, looks like we've got a cocky one," laughed one of the Night Creepers as he dropped to the ground.

"That's okay," said the last ninja assassin, "Whoever he is, I'm sure the Commander will pay a nice fee to get his hands on him."

Duke took a defensive stance as the Night Creepers approached and drew their wave-bladed swords. Quickly turning around, the Joe grabbed a stacked box and hurled it at the lead ninja. The assassin jumped forward, slashing his blade down and hacked the box in two. The box halves crashed to the ground as the ninja spun into a roundhouse kick that Duke narrowly dodged by leaning back. Springing back, the Joe charged the mercenary and tackled him, sending the two men crashing to the ground. Scrambling back to his feet, Duke grabbed the smashed Night Creeper Leader's sword and held it up to block the attack of the next Night Creeper. The swords clanged, but Duke did not save himself from the onslaught. The ninja kicked the Joe First Sergeant hard in the stomach. As Duke heeled over, a second kick smashed quickly into his face, sending his head whiplashing back and his body stumbling into the last box behind him.

Coughing and wiping the blood trickling down from his mouth, Duke grit his teeth and clenched his fists. The ninjas were approaching him with their swords drawn and undoubtedly feeling cockier than ever. Something caught his eye, and after looking over their shoulders, Duke turned his growl into a grin.

"This battle's over."

The closest Night Creeper pointed his sword at Duke, "Then you surrender?"

"You wish."

Screaming in pain, the rear Night Creeper dropped to the ground; a line of blood ran across his back. Behind him stood Snake Eyes, holding a bloody sword and looking very, very pissed off.

Turning around, the last standing Night Creeper screamed out a battle cry and charged the Joe Commando. Easily deflecting the sword attack, Snake Eyes grabbed the ninja by the neck and slammed him into a brick wall, knocking him completely unconscious. Snake Eyes released his grip on the Creeper's throat and let him slump to the ground.

After wiping and sheathing his sword, Snake Eyes held out an arm to his rambunctious teammate. After standing up, Duke frowned. "Thank you, Snake, but don't start guilt-tripping me about this. Cobra is destroying the city, and I saw an opportunity to end the death and destruction, so I took it."

Snake Eyes slowly shook his head and pointed to the "G.I. Joe" insignia on his uniform.

Sniffing blood back into his battered nose, Duke nodded, then walked over to the S.A.W.-Viper rifle and ammo belt and picked them up. "Damn it! You're right. We are a team, not a group of vigilantes. I was a fool. Damn it." Looking down the alley, Duke sighed, "The Commander is gone. But he can't be far. Let's get the others. We've got a snake to catch!"

3.

Hawk ripped the parachute gear off of himself as fast as he could and walked over to the flaming wreckage of an Armadillo mini-tank.

"Did anyone get hurt by the explosion?"

Flint nodded, "Yeah, Short-Fuze and Recondo were parachuting down just above the tank when it blew. They were hit with shrapnel, but Stalker looked them over and thinks they'll be okay."

"I guess that'll have to do. Any idea what hit the tank?"

Raising his arm, Ripcord caught the general's attention, "I saw it, sir. It was an armor-piercing shell. Small, nasty one."

Hawk frowned. "Small, eh? Sounds like H.E.A.T.-Viper ammo to me."

Flint waved some other Joes over to the wreckage. "Everyone has landed, sir."

"Alright, then." Hawk turned around and faced the group of forty-three Joes that he had brought with him from the PIT. "Okay, everybody knows the drill. We're going to break up into three strike teams: Ike, Patton and Lee. Flint will take Patton team and fight his way up to the West Transit Road. It's a big, open roadway that Cobra has put a lot of vehicles on. I'll be in charge of Ike team, and it's my job to bust the Cobra troop forces on Gospodska Street, right in the city center. Lee team, under Captain Grid-Iron's control, probably has the hardest job. Cobra is getting all of its supplies from the Vrbas River, and even though we don't have a single waterborne vehicle with us, I want that supply route cut!"

"Yes, sir!" roared the members of Lee team.

"Good. Remember, there are a lot of scared Serbs out there fighting for their lives. They won't know whether we are friend or foe, so be careful. Anyone fighting for their existence becomes the most dangerous person you've ever faced, understood? Now, let's get out there and save this city! Yo Joe!"

"Yo Joe!" cried the group of soldiers with their arms raised high.

As the group broke up, Hawk walked over to Flint, "I want you to take all of the vehicles."

"Are you crazy? We only have a handful as it is!"

"That's why you need to take them. Look, I can't really use them in the city center, and Grid-Iron doesn't need them by the river. We've already lost an Armadillo, and you're going to need them on West Transit."

Sighing, Flint nodded, "Okay, but I'm only doing this because you said so. And speaking of Armadillos, where is that Rolling Thunder driver, anyways?"

Hawk looked to the sky, "He should be here soon." _I hope_.

4.

"We've got unfriendlies shooting up at us, Lieutenant!" barked Armadillo, "Either pick up the pace or you'll be picking up the pieces!"

"Sergeant Joe, if we go any faster, we risk dropping your precious super-tank! Don't worry, we are almost to the expressway!"

A cluster of bullets punched through the door of the helicopter, causing Armadillo to duck for cover. Altan began laughing. "For a big American soldier, you sure seem green!"

Frowning, the Armored Assault Vehicle Driver glared up at the Turkish officer, "Sir, my job is getting people from point A to point B on the ground. Hanging up in the air for some sort of demented, uh, 'duck' shoot is not exactly a comfortable experience for me. Get me on the ground and into my Rolling Thunder, and you might just be impressed, but I've got nothing to prove up here."

Still smiling, Lieutenant Altan replied, "I might just take you up on that offer, Sergeant Armadillo. I—" The Turkish officer was cut off by a loud explosion and the clatter of shrapnel against the side of the helicopter. It was immediately followed by a hard yank on the copter's lift cables, tipping the aircraft to its right and setting off a multitude of warning alarms. Once the pilot leveled the helicopter back out Armadillo and Altan looked out the right window of the AS 532. There were now only two other helicopters carrying the Rolling Thunder; the right rear section of the squadron was now empty and the Thunder was at an awkward tilt.

"Oh no," gasped Armadillo, "Who was on that chopper?"

"Only my men, none of your friends," said Altan. After whispering a quiet prayer he looked back to Armadillo, "It seems that I have a reason to fight Cobra after all." He leaned forward and talked to the pilot, then leaned back. "These three helicopters cannot hold up your super-tank for very long. We are going to set down immediately."

"Right. Are we clear of Cobra activity?"

"No."

"No?"

"No." Altan looked Armadillo hard in the eyes, "Therefore we are going to join you."

The Rolling Thunder driver could feel his jaw drop, "Are you kidding? I'm in for it as it is! I can't allow this! This isn't your battle!"

Pointing out the window, Altan barked, "Cobra just made it my battle! We are putting you into a battle with almost no one to operate your machine. I cannot allow that! So, we will help you."

Still shaking his head, Armadillo waved his hand, "But your men can't even read English. How could you help me operate the Thunder?"

"They can pull a trigger, can't they? Like it or not, Sergeant Joe, you need us, and like it or not, you are going to get our help."

As the Rolling Thunder was set to the ground, the only thought going through Armadillo's mind was, _I'm gonna get court martialed for this!_

5.

The sight was typical Cobra Commander forte; he was racing a H.I.S.S. tank down the street shooting its cannons in a chaotic spread and screaming senseless orders at every Viper in earshot. Destro would reluctantly admit that the Commander wasn't half-bad at scheming, but he was completely inept when it came to organized warfare.

Destro's transport, the lightly-armed Stinger jeep, frantically chased the Commander's tank, but every time it came close to reaching it, the High Speed Sentry kicked into overdrive and sped off down West Transit Road. Finally, the tank pulled to a stop as it engaged a small group of Serb resistance and had to chase them away with cannon fire. Unbeknownst to the Head Snake, he was in more trouble than he could handle.

"Assist the Commander immediately!" ordered Destro as he pointed to a group of militants armed with RPGs who were taking aim at the H.I.S.S.

"Yes, sir!" replied the Stinger Driver. The black jeep crashed through a pile of wreckage, swung into a fish tail maneuver then screeched to a halt. The Driver took remote control of the jeep's rear missile launcher and turned it towards the group of Serbian militants. Once the crosshairs were set, he pulled the trigger and launched one of the red rockets. Screaming through the air, the missile quickly found its target just above the Serbians, destroying the side of the building they were huddled next to and sending its debris on top of them.

Jumping out of the jeep, Destro ran over to the H.I.S.S. tank and climbed up the back side. "Commander, I must have a word with you!"

Turning with surprise, Cobra Commander quickly hissed with disapproval, "Destro! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be up front leading my troops!"

"Yes, Commander, but we need to talk about strategy if you want to—"

"You know damn well what I want, Destro!" interrupted the Head Snake, "I want this city leveled to the ground, because we must show the world once and for all that we have a place in this world, and we will no longer be ignored! I have as much right to claim land in this world as any other man, and if the world won't accept our allegiance then it must accept our vengeance!"

Slowly clapping his hands, Destro frowned, "Very powerful, Commander, but I have heard it all before, and it does no good to yell it at me. I did not come here to talk politics with you, I came to discuss the sanity behind destroying Banja Luka." Destro pointed to the injured Serbians crawling out of the rubble, "Look! The citizens of the city are resisting you! They will not give up their home easily. And there are tens of thousands of them to overcome! If we were to fight a couple dozen Joes, then I would say march on and I'd be right by your side. But this is a city! We may scare its citizens out, but they'll be back, and in greater numbers. I cannot justify this battle, Commander!"

Hissing, Cobra Commander grabbed the tank's turret controls and swung it forward. "You didn't seem to mind when I offered you money. You are shallower of a man than you like to believe, Destro."

Looking down in shame, Destro slowly nodded, "Monetary wealth is my vice, Commander, and you have used it to control me far too many times. I would like to say never again, but I know that that just isn't true. But I will tell you this, my dear Cobra Commander, the G.I. Joe team has landed in force just south of the city and will reach us soon. I am going to take a large contingent of Vipers and Iron Grenadiers back to face them. You are now left alone to fight the Serbians. I won't help you fight them. Best of luck, because you will need it."

As Destro hopped down from the H.I.S.S., the Head Snake cried out, "No! We have agreed to nothing! Get back here you fool! Destro!"

The Iron Grenadier Leader sat down in the Stinger and ordered the Driver to take him back to the front. He'd find his best troops there, and he'd take them out of one fire, and throw them right into an even hotter one.

6.

The Thunder Machine was just as they left it: parked along the side of the road next to the still-smoking meat-truck wreckage with Ripper sitting atop the jet engine in the back.

"Where the hell 'ave you two been? Where's Buzzer and Torch?"

Monkeywrench nervously looked back, "Uh, they got captured."

"Captured!" growled Ripper, "And you just left 'em? We need to go back for 'em!"

"No way!" laughed Thrasher, "The forest is squirmin' with Joes now. I'm not stickin' around so the Joes can capture us, too."

Attempting to pull himself forward, then crying in pain when his wounds overwhelmed him, Ripper sat up, "You bloomin' idiot! It's our job to kill the Joes! Zartan told us to. If there are Joes in the forest then you need to go back in there an' finish 'em off."

"Us?" griped Monkeywrench, "What about you?"

"You moron, do I look like I can use a gun right now? I can barely stand up."

Thrasher shook his head, "No way am I goin' back in there, not unless I get a lot more money."

Cursing, Ripper looked to the ground. Wheeling and dealing was usually Zartan's business; it wasn't exactly his forte. Concentrating so hard that it hurt, he managed to get a simple idea processed.

"Hey, you can have my paycheck for this mission."

Looking over to Ripper with awe, Thrasher's jaw nearly dropped, "Are you serious?"

"Sure. I mean, after all, I'm not gonna make it out of here alive anyway. So you'll go after the Joes for my share?"

"Sure!" cheered Thrasher, "You get paid way more than I do!" Reaching into the Thunder Machine, the now-financially-secure Dreadnok grabbed Ripper's dropped rifle. "I'll be needin' ta take yer gun, though, just for safety's sake."

Gritting his teeth, Ripper replied, "You better bring that back."

"Don't worry!" laughed Thrasher, "I'm an expert!"

"But hey, what about me?" asked Monkeywrench, "What money do I get?"

Ripper thought for a moment again, then said, "You can have Buzzer's money. He won't need it since he'll be in recovery, right?"

Looking confused for only a second, Monkeywrench smiled and said, "Right!" He reloaded his harpoon gun and stepped up beside Thrasher. The two re-armed Dreadnoks stood in front of the Thunder Machine feigning confidence, but it quickly disappeared.

"So, uh, where are the Joes?" asked Thrasher.

"Closer than you think!" called a voice from the forest. The Dreadnoks cried in panic as machinegun fire began rattling the Thunder Machine. The two mercenaries dropped their weapons and ran for cover behind the Machine.

Two Joes walked out of the forest with their weapons raised. "Hands up, Dreadnoks!" ordered a Joe in camouflage. Ripper attempted to raise his arms, but the pain was too great.

Thrasher stayed face-first on the ground but Monkeywrench looked around the Thunder Machine—he nearly jumped up. "Toad man! But how? I blew you to pieces!" Hit & Run walked up to him and Monkeywrench noticed a slight limp in his step. The left side of his uniform was also heavily burned and his arm was moderately scorched.

"There is an advantage to having friends, as well as being really damn fast on your feet. Get up." Monkeywrench stood up while the Joe Light Infantryman kept his rifle pointed at him. "But you just about killed me, Dreadnok. I don't appreciate that."

"Oh, come on now, it was all in good fun," joked Monkeywrench, but before he could say another word, Hit & Run swung his rifle's stock hard into the Dreadnok's face, knocking him back to the ground.

"Laugh at that, jerk." He then pointed his gun at Thrasher. "Up." The Dreadnok scrambled to his feet.

"Please don't hurt me, I was just following orders, sir, it was nothing personal."

Sighing, Hit & Run pointed to the Thunder Machine's driver seat, "You're going to drive me back to pick up my friends so that they don't have to walk through this god awful forest anymore, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Get in the driver's seat. If you try a single trick, you die. Pretty easy to comprehend, right?"

Thrasher just grumbled.

"Shockwave, pull Ripper off of the engine, I'm going for a little ride with Thrasher. You mind doing some guard duty?"

"No problem." The Joe S.W.A.T. Trooper yanked the Dreadnok off of the Machine, causing him to scream in agony.

In less than a minute, the Thunder Machine was up and moving down the road. Shockwave looked down at the unconscious Monkeywrench and the whimpering Ripper and smiled. _This is gonna be easy!_


End file.
